Immortalicum
by Hallowed Huntress
Summary: Terrified for the wellbeing of her unborn child, Bella contacts the only person who might know something that can help her and the baby survive. When he comes to Forks to aid her pregnancy, she finds herself falling for him in her husband's absence. Set after Breaking Dawn chapter 7. Not related to my other works. Rated M for pregnancy terminology and adult themes. (AroxBella).
1. Chapter 1: Unexpected

**AN: For those of you who have read my other works, this story adheres more closely to canon than those in the "Mercy" series. I also think it's a bit less dark, though it's hardly fluff. Plenty of drama and action will be present. And also, this one** ** _is_** **a romance, as stated in the genre description, so AroxBella fans needn't be disappointed.**

 **EdwardxBella fans... Oh dear. You won't like this at all.**

 **This story picks up right in the middle of Breaking Dawn Chapter 7 and should be read as a continuation of the saga from that point** — **I apologize if that seems redundant, but I really feel that the buildup is necessary to explaining Bella's feelings. Just as you don't fall in love in one day, you don't fall out of love in one day either, and... well... she's married *cough* to the wrong person *cough* at this point... so...**

 **Also, it'll be a few chapters before Aro shows up. He's not the** ** _first_** **person Bella would think about in a crisis.**

 **And once again, I'm following FFnet guidelines for my ratings and so this story is 16+ not 18+.**

* * *

 _..._

 _I will give no sort of medicine to any pregnant woman,_

 _with a view to destroy the child_.

 _-Original Greek Version of the Hippocratic Oath (approx.. 500 B.C.)_

 _..._

CHAPTER ONE: UNEXPECTED

Everything about our honeymoon on Isle Esme had been picturesquely perfect. That is, until a sudden bout of nausea seized my stomach and caused me to heave its contents not just once, but three times—all in the same day.

The first time, I blamed the suspicious-tasting chicken I had fried for myself earlier that day. I figured that my human fragility made food poisoning a sensible explanation.

Edward hadn't appreciated the insinuation that the food he provided was anything less than five-star. But I'd never had the strongest of stomachs. And no matter how scrupulous he'd been about checking expiration dates, and keeping the meat well-refrigerated, there was still an infinitesimal chance that it could have something wrong with it. And when I was around, every .01% chance of danger became an 100% chance.

I seemed to turn everything upside-down like that. My whole life, from the unplanned pregnancy that led to my existence, to my multiple close brushes with death, was a mess. And my uncanny bad luck had only increased exponentially since I met Edward and became embroiled in the world of vampires. So I really wasn't surprised that a hiccup like this happened on my honeymoon with one.

But for some unknowable reason my sickness threw Edward into a state of dire panic. Like I'd contracted a terminal illness or something, instead of what I was sure was an insignificant stomach bug.

After I told him that I threw up, Edward spent the better part of ten minutes pacing back and forth, and shaking like the earth was giving in beneath him. As he moved, he angrily mumbled a string of mostly indecipherable nonsense. The little I could make out suggested that he thought I was in mortal peril. And that it was somehow his fault.

"I should never have..." he muttered, wringing his hair in his hands, "...she can't die... not... so close..."

I tried to reassure him that this was nothing to be worried about—that I wasn't as fragile as he thought, and had definitely survived worse.

I was Bella Swan: weirdness and danger-magnet extraordinaire. I was always running headlong into danger when I ought to be running away. Like when I stopped Edward from committing suicide in Volterra. And I was always worrying about the wrong things when confronted with a life-threatening situation. Like when I was more worried about whether or not Edward's family would approve of me than I was about my own physical safety.

According to Edward I was "backwards in the head", and sometimes "totally stupid" when it came to self-preservation.

And yet, despite all of the dumb things I'd done that could have easily ended my life, I'd made it _this far_ alive.

But no matter how logical my arguments were; no matter how many times I told him that I would _know_ if I was dying (and I definitely wasn't), Edward remained skeptical about the source of my sudden sickness.

At least, for a few hours.

Eventually, he grudgingly accepted my explanation. He agreed to fry me up some eggs for dinner while I did a little "I told you so" dance.

But unfortunately, my victory was short lived.

Only a few minutes after eating the eggs he had carefully cooked for me, I unexpectedly heaved again, and his worry grew to the extreme. Again, I tried to reassure him that it was probably just the common flu. Which was nothing I couldn't handle on my own. Especially given the plethora of medicinal supplies that Alice with her foresight had packed for me.

But it wasn't really working. Nothing would stay in my stomach for very long. Not even the ginger-tea Edward had fixed to settle my stomach, which typically worked miracles on digestive problems like this.

After coughing up the entire drink, and a lot of bile, into the kitchen sink, Edward started to insist that we return to the mainland and seek professional help.

"We should go back to Rio, see a doctor," he suggested anxiously when I was vigorously rinsing my mouth out afterward—I hated the nasty, acidic taste throwing up left behind. It was almost impossible to entirely get rid of.

I shook my head and nervously edged towards the hallway—doctors meant needles, and my track record with sharp-pointy objects was not stellar. Hell, my track record with perfectly smooth, safe objects wasn't great. So I figured if I went anywhere near something as dangerous as a syringe, I would somehow manage to gravely injure myself. Or at least faint from the sight of my own blood. Risks I really didn't want to take unless I was dying.

"I'll be fine right after I brush my teeth," I lied, in an attempt to placate him.

It was a lie which he accepted with surprising grace. He nodded once before leaving me to it.

I spent a good five minutes scrubbing the rough bristles of my toothbrush across my teeth to erase all vestiges of the horrible taste. When my mouth finally tasted better, I slowly padded into our bedroom, trying not to disturb my stomach any more than necessary. A large suitcase sat open in front of our bed. I knelt down in front of it and started rummaging through it's many contents.

I was searching for the little first-aid kit Alice had packed for me. The first aid kit was full of human things like bandages and painkillers and—my object now—Pepto-Bismol. As I fingered through the many lacy lingerie numbers Alice had also provided, many of which I had yet to utilize against my unsuspecting husband, I hoped that the elusive pink fluid could settle my stomach and subsequently calm Edward down. Really, a little nausea was not something to get worked up over.

But before I found my Pepto, I happened across another thing that Alice had packed for me that gave me pause. It was a small blue box with the word TAMPAX emblazoned on the side in bold white lettering. Lifting it up to examine it better in the light, I stared at the strange object in my hand for a long moment, forgetting everything else.

Then I started counting in my head. Once. Twice. Again.

 _Something isn't right,_ I thought as I peered at the waxy cardboard surface of the box in my hand. _It's been too long… at least I think so…_

A sharp knock on the bedroom door startled me, causing the little box to fall back into the suitcase.

"Are you well?" Edward asked anxiously through the door. He didn't dare come in just in case I was in the middle of one of my "embarrassing human rituals" which I had staunchly forbidden him to witness. I loathed the idea of him seeing me that way, disgusting, frail and ordinary. So whenever he tried, I threw a huge fit. One he currently wanted to avoid.

"Did you get sick again?" he probed, sounding worried, and still hovering behind the door, ready to dart in as soon as I gave the okay.

I heaved a deep sigh. Though I wished otherwise, Edward wasn't going to leave without an answer.

"Yes and no," I said truthfully, not possessing the craftiness to lie at this point. But my voice sounded strangled. And I'd left him with even more questions than answers now.

"Bella? Can I please come in?" His voice creaked with surprising emotion. He was really concerned about my health now, like he believed I had tripped over the foot of the bed and broken my leg. It wasn't entirely unlikely, given my legendary clumsiness.

But given my slightly catatonic state, I didn't know how to respond, other than to weakly squeak out, "O…kay?"

Immediately Edward came in and appraised my position, kneeling on the floor by the suitcase, as well as my expression: blank and staring. After a moment of silent observation, he slid down next to me. His hand went to my forehead at once and he softly stroked my feverish skin.

Edward's pale lips twisted into a disconcerted frown. "What's wrong?" he asked, running his fingers over my face and through my tousled brown hair. He was trying to jolt me from my immobilized condition, so he could know how to offer assistance, rather than sit helplessly in the dark.

"How many days has it been since the wedding?" I whispered nervously, leaning into his cool touch to escape the heat of the day.

"Seventeen," he answered automatically, like it ought to be obvious—which of course it was to him, he had impeccable vampire memory.

 _Seventeen? Really it's been that long?_

Edward's face grew solemn at my silence. "Bella, what is it?"

His answer required an immediate recount. I held up a finger, cautioning him to wait until I was finished—I could hardly concentrate when his beautiful melodious voice was speaking dulcet tones in my ear. I mouthed the numbers to myself. I'd been wrong about the days when I had counted before. According to his calculation, which I knew to be correct, we'd been here longer than I had thought. So I started over again, checking my facts twice, three times, four…. just to be sure.

But no matter how many times I did the math. Or whether I did it backwards or forwards, didn't make a difference. The answer still came up wrong.

It had to be wrong, because the only alternatives I knew of were impossible—unless I was suddenly menopausal. Which was highly unlikely, given the fact that I was only eighteen. Of course there was a slim chance…

But nausea wasn't a symptom of menopause—hot flashes, headaches and irregular periods, sure. But this strange moodiness that had suddenly overwhelmed me and my complete inability to hold down food were not a part of the program. I'd seen my own mother go through menopause—this was not it.

"Bella!" Edward whispered urgently, jarring me from my analytical thoughts. "I'm losing my mind over here," he added, his topaz eyes imploring me to tell him what had me so paralyzed.

I tried to swallow; to compose myself so that I could explain my conundrum. But it didn't work—my mouth was utterly frozen in shock.

So instead I merely reached into the suitcase and fumbled around until I found the little blue box of tampons again, brand-new and unopened. I held it aloft silently. I figured their lack of use during this extended trip spoke enough for itself.

Apparently not. As I presented the box to my husband, Edward just stared at me in total confusion.

"What? Are you trying to pass this illness off as PMS?" he said, not believing the excuse for a second. And completely missing my point, as most men—especially vampires—did when it came to womanly matters.

"No," I choked out with much difficulty. My mind was still struggling to process what was happening, and it was hampering my motor capabilities in the process. "No, Edward. I'm trying to tell you that my period is five days late," I clarified slowly, enunciating each syllable clearly so that he had time for my words to sink in.

But his facial expression didn't change. It was like I hadn't spoken at all.

"I don't think I have food poisoning…" I added for good measure, trying to verbally coerce him into some sort of response.

I would have taken anything: outrage, fear, incredulity, a laugh, whatever. But his blank topaz eyes and his totally petrified movements were unacceptable. I needed him to do _something_ , not just sit there and gaze glassily off into space, like Medusa had appeared and turned him into a stone sculpture.

So I forced him to confront my theory by dropping a hand to cradle my upset stomach, holding it the way a woman might after using one of those First-Response strips and testing positive.

He still didn't move.

I lurched to my feet, slipping easily out of Edward's unmoving hands and dashed over to the full-length mirror hanging against the far wall. I'd never changed out of the little silk shorts and navy camisole I'd warn to bed. So when I approached my shell-shocked reflection, I hastily yanked the blue fabric out of the way and stared at my exposed stomach.

I hadn't expected to find anything there, I was just trying to garner my dazed husband's attention.

But what I saw reflected in the glass made me gasp in pure disbelief.

"Impossible," I whispered, awestruck as my eyes fell upon the pale, unfamiliar surface.

I had absolutely no experience with pregnancy or babies or any part of that world, but I wasn't an idiot. I'd seen enough movies and TV shows to know that this wasn't how it worked. I was only five days late, so if I _was_ pregnant, my body wouldn't even have registered that fact. I would not have morning sickness—what my nausea earlier must have been—I would not have changed my eating or sleeping habits…

…And I most definitely would not have a small, but nonetheless very defined bump sticking out between my hips.

I twisted my torso back and forth, examining it from every angle, as if it would disappear in the exactly the right light. I ran my fingers over the subtle bulge, surprised by how rock-hard it felt under my skin. Like Edward's marble-flesh, not my squishy human membranes.

"Impossible," I said again, this time dismissively, rather than in wonderment. Because, bulge or no bulge, period or no period (and there definitely was no period, though I'd never been late a day in my life), there was no way I could be _pregnant_. The only person I'd ever had sex with was a vampire, for crying out loud! A vampire who was still frozen on the floor, emptily gazing off into space, with no sign of ever moving again.

So there had to be some other explanation, then. Something wrong with me. A strange South American disease that came with all the sings of pregnancy, only accelerated…. But did such a thing really exist? Or was I just trying to worm my way out of the most logical deduction?

Except that it wasn't very logical at all. Vampires couldn't have children—I had been taught that much by Rosalie.

But as I considered it for a moment I realized that my situation with Edward was slightly different. Of course Rosalie could not conceive a child, because she was frozen in the state in which she passed from human to inhuman. Totally unchanging.

Like all of them were.

Alice's hair was permanently short, because it'd been cropped during her stay in the asylum. And Esme was still minutely round from the baby she had lost before her transformation. Not that Carlisle minded in the slightest.

And the way procreation worked among humans was that women's bodies had to _change_ to bear children. The constant change of a monthly cycle for one thing, which I'd never asked the Cullens about specifically (though I'd never seen any feminine products in their bathrooms until I'd become a regular visitor). And then the bigger changes needed to accommodate a growing child.

And while I wasn't sure about the former (vampires did exhibit some infinitesimal growth cycles in their cells, allowing for healing and breathing, so having a period wasn't entirely out of the question), I was sure that the latter was impossible. Rosalie's body couldn't change _that_ much. Her perfectly flat stomach was frozen in place. So even if a collection of infant cells tried to take up residence there, they wouldn't have any room to grow. And would necessarily die out.

But I didn't have the same limitations. My body could change. And judging by the little bump on my stomach that had not been there yesterday, it already had.

And human men—well they pretty much stayed the same from puberty to death in regards to fertility. Some had fathered children in their seventies or even older. Men had no such thing as child-bearing years, and their cycle of fertility—spermatogenesis—was a constant, continuous process that didn't require any external alterations to the body. And therefore it was something that the transition into immortality could easily sustain.

And if Edward was still fully functioning in that department, (which I hadn't bothered to specifically ask, but had a fairly good idea from our nights together that he was) it was totally possible that he could be capable of fathering children.

 _Of course, how could he have known?_ I reasoned. _How could anyone know if vampire men could father children, when their female counterparts were not able to facilitate the process?_

It was clear to me, based on everyone's reservations about Edward and I having a "real honeymoon" while I was still human, that our situation was rare.

 _How many other vampires on earth had attempted something so ridiculous and dangerous?_ I wondered. _And of those few, how many had intended the human_ _to survive the process, not simply get eaten?_ I shuddered as I recalled how Edward had once said others only saw sex with humans as a "prelude to the feast."

 _How many other vampires on earth even possessed the restraint necessary to test their fertility with a human woman?_ I considered, as I realized that even most of the Cullens, with all their good intentions, were never quite perfectly under control.

I couldn't know for sure. But it dawned on me that Edward might be the only one. The only vampire to ever sleep with a human woman who escaped the encounter alive.

I desperately wanted Edward to explain what was going on, but I was stunned beyond the capacity to speak. The reality that I might be the first woman to carry a vampire's child too overwhelming to allow it.

At the very least I needed to go back to where Edward sat, because his familiar presence and gentle touches always made everything better. But my body wouldn't follow instructions. I could only stare at my shocked eyes in the mirror. And the fingers gingerly pressed against the swelling on my torso.

As I stood there, my head still reeling from the implications of this impossible scenario I had found myself in, something happened that changed everything. It was such a small sensation. Something that in mundane circumstances would not have had any significance. But right now, the feeling was earth-shattering.

It was a tiny, soft nudge bumping against my hand from inside my body.

Whatever was going on with me now, there was something _alive_ in there. Something sentient enough to be curious about its surroundings, including the fingers pressed experimentally against it. A fact that made the theoretical situation of my pregnancy suddenly very real.

In the same moment, however, Edward's phone rang, shrill and demanding.

Neither of us moved, right away. I was too busy trying to tune it out while I ran my hands over my swollen stomach, waiting for whatever creature now lived beneath them to reassert itself.

In the mirror my expression was no longer bewildered. Instead it was wondering now.

 _Could I really have a baby inside me already?_ I barely noticed the strange, silent tears streaming down my cheeks as I considered this prospect with unexpected joy.

The phone rang again and again, and kept ringing, making it difficult to form coherent thoughts. I really wished Edward would answer it—I was having a moment, possibly the biggest of my life.

 _A baby…_ I mused rapturously. _Is that what this is?_

 _Ring! Ring! Ring!_

Finally, the annoyance broke through everything else. I got down on my knees next to Edward, moving more carefully, and patted-down his many pockets until I found the phone. As I irritably fished it out of his front left pocket, I half expected him to thaw out of his statuesque stupor and answer it himself. But throughout the entire ordeal he was perfectly still. Unmoving and emotionless—like a renaissance statue of some great stoic thinker.

When I lifted the phone, I recognized the number immediately. And I could easily guess why she was calling.

"Hi, Alice," I said in my best happy voice. But it wasn't much better than before—still raspy and sick sounding. Not to mention thoroughly terrified.

 _What on earth are we going to do about this miracle?_ I wondered before I cleared my throat.

"Bella? Bella are you okay?" Alice anxiously demanded, her bell-like voice sounding frantic and confused. Like it had been when Edward had decided to kill himself at the hands of the Volturi, and his future kept fluctuating before her perceptive eyes.

I stiffened where I stood as I tried to imagine what she might have seen that had urged her to call at this moment. I tried to assure myself that I was overreacting. That I was imagining the fear I heard in her voice. Maybe she was just calling to tell me that this bizarre thing happening to me right now would turn out okay.

"Yeah, um is Carlisle there?" I asked nervously. Certainly the medical expert would be able to confirm my theory, or disavow it if it was totally ridiculous. And if it was ridiculous, he could explain why there was something alive inside of me—a South American parasite, maybe?

It would have to be a vegan parasite, though. It hadn't liked any of the animal products I'd eaten in the last several hours… chicken, eggs, milk…

"He is," Alice revealed hesitantly. "What's the problem?"

"I'm not… one hundred percent sure…" I answered honestly.

I couldn't really just blurt out my irrational theory. There was no reason to make my new sister-in-law panic over unexpectedly becoming an aunt if that wasn't even scientifically feasible.

"Is Edward alright?" She asked warily before she called Carlisle's name away from the phone. "Why didn't he pick up the phone?" she demanded before I could answer her first question.

I glanced over at my immobile husband. He didn't look alright. His whole body was rigid, like he'd prematurely gone into _rigor mortis_. Not even my hand waving animatedly in front of his face could shake him from his reverie.

"I'm not sure."

"Bella, what's going on, I just saw—" Alice broke off ominously before finishing her sentence, as if she didn't want to say the words aloud for fear that they might come true if she did.

But I was unwilling to accept her silence. The curiosity that flooded my being was suddenly unbearable. "What did you see?" I begged. I tried to make it clear in my voice without further frightening Edward that I could handle whatever it was, good or bad.

The other end of the line was completely quiet for a horrifying moment. Then finally, when her lack of speaking was almost unbearable, Alice said, "Here's Carlisle," before handing the phone off to him.

It felt like ice-water had been injected into my veins. Alice's silence spoke volumes.

 _If Alice had seen a vision of me with a green-eyed, angel-faced child in my arms, she would have answered me, wouldn't she?_ I reasoned. _Wouldn't that be good news? Something both of us would want to hear in light of this unprecedented, and frankly a bit scary, event?_

I certainly thought so.

 _Does she think that the truth will be too much for me to hear right now?_ I considered as the alternative. _Is she worried that telling me will affect my decisions? That if I know what is going on, that I might accidentally decide to do something that will wreck my chances for a beautiful future?_

I chewed on my lower lip as I struggled to remain optimistic about this. _Maybe our child has a birth defect, like Down syndrome or something. And she doesn't want to spoil the moment by telling us right away._

While I waited through the split second it took for Carlisle to speak, the vision I wanted Alice to have seen danced behind my lids. I saw a tiny, beautiful little baby—a miniature Edward—in my arms. Warmth shot through me as I gazed upon his adorable little features in my mind's eye, especially his chubby little hands and feet, chasing the ice away.

Whatever obstacle might present itself to us now, in that moment I resolved that I would love him and shield him from it no matter what.

"Bella, it's Carlisle." His apprehensive voice sliced through my blissful day-dreaming. "What's going on?"

"I—" I wasn't sure how to answer.

 _Would he laugh at my conclusions, tell me I was crazy?_ Maybe in five seconds I would wake up in Edward's arms and discover that all of this had just been a colorful dream. A very vivid, very sensate, partially nightmarish dream.

"I'm a little worried about Edward…" I said, distancing the conversation from me for a moment. I wasn't sure if I could handle the embarrassment right away if I was wrong. "Can vampires go into shock?"

"Has he been harmed?" Carlisle's voice was suddenly urgent. No doubt he was doubly on edge because whatever could possibly pose a threat to my nigh-impenetrable husband definitely posed a lethal threat to me, being the careless, fragile human that I was.

My frazzled mind quickly filtered through a number of terrifying scenarios that could physically damage Edward. Another encounter with the Volturi. A newborn army. Or even just a lone vampire or werewolf. Or some other legendary creature I had yet to familiarize myself with.

But the only other people on this remote island were the human housekeepers.

"No, no," I assured him quickly—we were not in physical danger.

I hoped.

I gazed with worried eyes down at Edward again. He still sat utterly immobile and unbreathing, giving me the horrifying impression that he'd somehow fossilized on the spot. It was unnatural for him to stay that way for this long.

"Just… taken by surprise."

I wasn't giving Carlisle much to go on.

"I don't understand, Bella," the doctor said slowly with the barest of sighs, as if prompting me to get to the point.

I sighed too. I guess I couldn't stall any longer. "I think… well, I think that…"

 _How on earth was I supposed to word this? Everything I've come up with sounds stupid in my head_ , I lamented as I tripped over the words.

"Maybe… I might be…"

I took a deep breath, deciding to throw caution to the wind. Carlisle had to know.

In my most confident tone of voice, I said, "I think I might be pregnant." I was startled by how even and smooth it had left my lips, rather than the coarse rambling I'd been expecting.

As if to back me up, there was another tiny nudge in my abdomen.

My hands immediately flew over my stomach again. _Are you really my baby?_ I wondered again as the feeling dissipated, leaving me alone with the unhelpful statue at my feet. And the eerie silence on the other end of the line.

After a long pause, Carlisle's medical training kicked in. "When was the first day of your last menstrual cycle?" he asked automatically, as I was certain he had asked many, _many_ women before me throughout the course of his centuries-long career. Thankfully, as a doctor he was totally unperturbed by the academic realities of female fertility.

"Sixteen days before the wedding." I'd done the mental math thoroughly enough just before to be able to answer with certainty.

His next question was also probably gleaned from hospital experience. "How do you feel?" he asked calmly, routinely, like he was dealing with any other possibly pregnant woman—not his son's newlywed wife who was possibly carrying the implausible: a vampire's baby.

"Weird," I told him honestly.

My voice broke as I caressed the strange, stony skin beneath the fleshy outer layer of my stomach. Another trickle of tears dribbled down my cheeks as I pondered the most likely scenario of what laid beneath it.

"This is going to sound crazy—look, I know it's way too early for any of this. Maybe I _am_ crazy. But I'm eating all the time and crying and throwing up and… and… I swear something just _moved_ inside me just now," I ranted, knowing that I sounded exactly as insane as I had feared.

But I no longer cared because this _was_ insane. A vampire fathering a child inside of me? Who knew?

At my admission that the tiny life inside me was already moving, Edward's head suddenly snapped up—an action which made me sigh in relief.

 _He is still alive, thank God._

Edward's second movement however, was to hold his hand out expectantly for the phone, his face white and hard. A much less reassuring gesture.

"Um, I think Edward wants to talk to you," I said, not entirely sure that Edward _could_ talk, given his previously paralytic state and relatively recent return to the land of the sort-of-living.

"Put him on," Carlisle conceded in a strained voice. He was obviously upset with the idea of relinquishing from our conversation. But he knew his son well enough to know that Edward wouldn't take no for an answer.

I sighed too, but obediently put the phone in my husband's outstretched hand. As soon as I let go of the device Edward raised it to his ear in record time.

So much for being a statue.

"It is possible?" he whispered. I couldn't tell if the idea made him sick, or he was simply taken off guard. Either way, he sounded extremely disgusted.

Instinctively, I shielded the bump on my stomach as Edward debated the likelihood of my being pregnant with Carlisle. I didn't like the tone of Edward's voice at all.

Ultimately, the two men went over all the same factors I had in my head about male fertility versus female fertility and how those things interacted with vampirism. At first Edward had angrily denied the idea, even shouting at Carlisle for suggesting that it was conceivable—which made me jump. I had never heard my husband behave so rudely towards Carlisle. Especially without any sort of provocation. But after a few minutes Carlisle must have said something that consoled him somewhat. Because immediately the volume of Edward's voice dropped. And while he still seemed considerably angry, he wasn't grinding his teeth together anymore. Or threatening to rip his own hair out.

"Will that really work?" Edward asked in response to a proposal I hadn't heard. His voice suddenly lilted upwards hopefully, as if his father had suggested something particularly heartening.

 _Will what work?_ I wondered, anxiously wringing my fingers. I waited for Edward to speak again so that I could try to piece together their conversation.

"What?!" Edward suddenly barked at something Carlisle said. Then his whole body tensed and coiled with rage—an emotion I had not expected from him.

My skin prickled uneasily as I stood beside him. I could only watch helplessly as these men discussed something obviously important regarding this new development. For some unknowable reason, Edward chose purposefully to leave me out of the loop.

 _What on earth has him so angry?_ I wondered fearfully. _This is a little unexpected. And if I am pregnant, then it is going rather fast..._ I conceded. _But there's no reason to take that out on Carlisle!_

There was a lengthy stretch of silence, where Edward listened for a long time, staring blankly at nothing. I assumed that during that time Carlisle was patiently answering my husband's query, and probably asking a few questions of his own.

After what felt like an eternity Edward finally spoke again, his words pressed through tight, stress-thinned lips. "Of course. I'll do what I can," he promised with a tiny bob of his head. Then, without warning he pulled his head away from the phone, pressed the "end" button and turned back to me.

"Carlisle thinks you're pregnant," he said in a lifeless voice. A voice that belied the bizarre fury I had seen in him earlier. It was still brimming beneath the surface, however, causing his brows to furrow into a deep "v".

But in the moment I was too swept up by the daunting revelation he had given me to care. The words "you're pregnant" sent a warm shiver down my spine. And the little nudger fluttered inside me in agreement.

I wasn't given any time to revel in the moment of awareness though—because immediately after Edward hung up, he rapidly began dialing a new number, one I didn't recognize. He put the phone back to his ear.

"Who are you calling now?" I asked, bewildered.

Edward tapped his foot irritably against the floor, waiting for the person on the other end of the line to pick up.

"The airport. We're going home."

…

Edward was on the phone for more than an hour without a break. I guessed that he was arranging our flight home, but I couldn't be sure. He wasn't speaking English and it sounded like he was arguing. He was yelling and he spoke through his teeth a lot, hissing slightly even, when he didn't get his way.

I felt bad for whoever was on the other end. They didn't deserve his acerbic treatment. Not even in a potentially-crisis-situation like this.

I wondered about what exactly had gotten my husband's hackles raised all of sudden. Edward hadn't made a fuss about any of this until I'd mentioned that our growing child was surprisingly mobile…

Of course, prior to that he'd been totally frozen… so...

While Edward argued, he packed, whirling around the room like an angry tornado, leaving order, rather than destruction in his path. He harshly threw a set of my clothes on the bed without looking at them so I assumed it was time to get dressed.

I silently complied with the unspoken order, quickly scooping up the garments he'd provided and deposited my bedclothes back into my suitcase. He continued with his argument while I changed. He gestured with sudden, agitated movements. And completely ignored me as I slowly changed my underwear too, choosing Alice's most daring red lace bra and panties to see if my nakedness and subsequent naughty-wear would distract him.

It usually did.

But today it didn't. He was too absorbed in his vicious war of words to even notice.

I sighed at his cold indifference and hurriedly threw on the plain dark blue shirt he'd chosen for me, followed by the tan capris. I guess I would have to remember that lingerie didn't work on Edward's temper the same way it did to his inhibitions about having sex.

After I had dressed, I could no longer bear the violent energy radiating out of my husband. His manic concentration made me sick to my stomach—not like the morning sickness, just uncomfortable. And so I quietly left the room.

I resolved to wait somewhere else for his mood to pass. I couldn't talk to this livid, icy, overly-focused Edward who honestly frightened me a little. He wasn't the man I had come to love with my whole being. He was… _someone else_.

Once again, I ended up in the kitchen. I always seemed to gravitate there for some reason. After pacing around mindlessly for a few moments while Edward shrieked furiously into the phone in the background, I found a small bag of pretzels in the cupboard. I started absently chewing on them as I stared out the window. Staring at the beautiful orange sand, rocks, trees and ocean, everything glittering in the afternoon sun.

Eating pretzels wasn't the smartest idea, given my recent experiences with food. I was almost destined to hack these up later too. But at the moment I didn't particularly care. I just needed something to get my mind off Edward and how unlovable he was acting at the moment.

 _In sickness and in health_ I reminded myself of our wedding vows, realizing for the first time what everyone had meant when they had said that marriage was not all sunshine and roses. The concept had seemed laughable while we'd been engaged. _Of course a marriage to Edward would be nothing but a dream,_ I'd naively thought.

But I wasn't about to butt out now. Even according to Carlisle, who I regarded as something of a marriage expert, sometimes you just had to put up with your spouse acting unreasonably.

Or in this case, acting ridiculously. And being horribly mean to everyone that was going to help us through this difficult time.

Edward yelled multiple strains of what sounded like insanely large amounts of money. The number shocked me at first. But I had to imagine that being suddenly bribed into chartering a direct flight from Rio back to Seattle, with the logistical nightmare that must present on such a short notice, was not a pleasant experience. I would have to be sure to give the reluctant pilot my deepest thanks when we finally got aboard.

While I considered telling Edward to cut the man some slack, however, someone nudged me again—diverting my attention back to the unlikely swell protruding from my belly. "I don't understand," I whispered to my little nudger. "What is _wrong_ here?"

This whole situation was certainly surprising, astonishing, even. But _wrong_?

No, nothing was _wrong_ about us having a baby together. We were married, so it wasn't exactly a scandal. Human couples did this sort of thing all the time. We were just a little… _different_.

 _So why was Edward so furious?_ I couldn't figure it out. _H_ e _was the one who had actually wished out loud for a shotgun wedding!_

As I continued munching mindlessly on pretzels, I tried to reason through it.

Maybe it wasn't so confusing that Edward wanted us to go home right away. Of course he'd want Carlisle to check me out. To make sure my assumption was right—though there was absolutely no doubt in my mind at this point.

Also, probably they'd want to figure out why I was already _so_ pregnant, with the bump and the nudging and all of that. That wasn't normal.

And Edward would also want to make sure that our child was actually alright. That nothing had gone horribly, terribly wrong that was speeding this process along.

Maybe Alice had told Carlisle what she said had seen and he had relayed that information to Edward earlier on the phone…

Maybe that was the secret to their urgency.

Once I thought of this, I was sure I had it. Edward must be so worried about the baby! I simply hadn't gotten around to freaking out yet because my brain worked slower than his. I was still stuck marveling over the picture it had conjured up before. The vision of a tiny child with Edward's eyes—green as his had been when he was human—lying fair and beautiful in my arms.

And even as I gradually came to distantly grasp what my husband's fears might be, I continued to dreamily envision our child. I hoped that he would have Edward's face exactly, with no interference from mine, because it would be a pity to mar something so exquisite and beautiful with features borrowed from boring old Bella.

I just couldn't bring myself to be possessed by the same hysteria that now consumed Edward. My instincts were just too different, I guess.

I had almost eaten all the pretzels in the bag now, but I wasn't really paying attention. The vision of our baby and of our future with him had consumed all of my senses.

From that first, tentative little touch, the whole world had shifted around me. Where before there was just one person I could not live without, (Edward, of course), now there were two. There was no division—my love was not split between them now; it wasn't like that. It was more like my heart had grown, swollen up to twice its size in that moment. And all that extra space was already filled with unfathomable love for this new being.

The increase was almost dizzying.

I'd never really understood Rosalie's pain and resentment before this moment. I'd never really imagined myself a mother, never wanted that with any of the boys I had crushed on before I had met him. And so it had been a piece of cake to promise Edward that I didn't care about giving up children for him, because I truly didn't.

Children, in the abstract, had never appealed to me. They seemed to be loud creatures, screaming, throwing things and often dripping with some form of goo. Not to mention they were chronically dependent on their mothers, which was not exactly the most appealing prospect to someone who would most likely end up tripping with one in my arms, and wind up dropping them into a ravine.

Perhaps if I'd grown up with a younger sibling I might have felt differently. But I was Renee's only child, and so I'd never had much to do with them. Even when I'd dreamed of Renee providing me with a brother, I'd always imagined an _older_ brother. Someone to take care of me, rather than the other way around.

This child, Edward's child, was a whole different story.

I wanted him like I wanted air to breathe. Not a choice—a necessity.

Maybe I just had a really bad imagination. Maybe that was why I'd been unable to imagine that I would _like_ being married until after I already was. And wholly unable to see that I would want a baby until after one was already coming….

As I put my hand on my stomach, waiting expectantly for the next nudge, tears streaked down my cheeks again. _What a wonderful miracle! I'm going to be a mother! We're going to be parents! We get to have a family! Could this dream get any more perfect?_

"Bella?"

I turned, made wary by the tone of his voice: it was too cold, too careful. When my tear-blurred eyes hazed back into focus I stepped back a bit in shock—his face matched his voice. It was empty and hard.

At least until Edward saw that I was crying. Then his expression became panicked, alarmed like I was about to do something stupid that would land myself in the emergency room again.

"Bella!" He cried out before crossing the room in a flash, whipping the balmy summer air into a frenzy around him. When he reached me he tenderly put his hands on my face. "Are you in pain?"

He didn't understand. He thought my tears were because I was hurting. It was _so_ the opposite. I was glowing with happiness. Why couldn't he see that?

"No, no—" I protested.

But for some unknowable reason Edward didn't want to hear it. Rather suddenly, he pulled me against his chest, running his hands reassuringly over my back the way he would when I was genuinely frightened.

"Don't be afraid," he murmured softly, almost in a coo. Though it was laced with a dark-edge of what I thought was self-loathing. "We'll be home in sixteen hours. You'll be fine." He informed me, inclining his head towards the phone, where he had digital copies of our rush-printed tickets displayed on the screen. "Carlisle will be ready when we get there," he added.

This initially made me soften in his glacial arms, thinking he was anxious to check on the baby. Until he went on, "We'll _take care_ of this, and you'll be fine. You'll be fine."

I cringed at his words and especially the way he'd said them. "Take care of this?"

He'd said it so callously—not the way I had expected a doting, overly-concerned father to regard his growing offspring. And also with a degree of finality that disturbed me. Like in a few days this "issue" would somehow no longer exist.

"What do you mean?"

Edward leaned away from me and looked me in the eye so there could be no mistake in his meaning. The amber irises peering down at me were cold and forbidding, like a gilded cage.

"We're going to get that _thing_ out before it can hurt you," he bit out between gritted teeth. He spit the word "thing" out of his mouth like it was an abomination. A monstrous parasite. An aberration against all that was good and holy in the world.

Clearly he saw something different in his mind when he imagined the combination of our genes manifested outside the womb. He probably saw something more akin to how he felt about vampires in general, as soulless, inherently evil creatures. I could only hope that Alice's visions did not back him up in believing that what we'd unwittingly created together was something menacing and vicious.

My eyes widened in fear. I now understood what the two men intended to do.

"Don't be scared," Edward reiterated, mistaking my emotions for his own. He dropped his hands to his sides and clenched them into fists with a pressure that could easily have cracked my wrists, or my neck had he been holding them. "I won't _let_ it hurt you," he promised.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

I clutched the counter for support. My knees were wobbly and everything around me was suddenly too bright and very blurry. I felt like I was going to faint.

Edward had just called my little nudger a _thing. A_ nd he said Carlisle would _get it out._ They wanted to abort the baby. _My_ baby.

"No," I whispered as I backed against the cool granite surface behind me. I grasped the edge with white-knuckles like my life depended on it.

I'd gotten it wrong before. Edward didn't care about the baby at all!

Instead he wanted to _hurt_ him.

The beautiful picture in my head shifted abruptly, changing into something brutal and dark. I saw my pretty baby crying, squealing as he was ripped cruelly from his home far too soon. My weak arms were not enough to protect him. And my stomach clenched as I saw the vindictive face of my husband as he coldly gave the order for our child to be torn apart and cast into the flames.

I almost threw up as the horrifying image raced across my mind.

 _Could Edward really do that to his own child?_ I wondered. I knew that under the same circumstances, my own father would have never been able to do something as ghastly as that to me and Renee. Nor would Carlisle be able to harm any child he created with Esme, had the option been available to them.

But as I looked terrified up into Edward's heartless eyes and the violently tense brows furrowed over them, I immediately understood that Edward didn't conceive of our unlikely offspring the same way I did. To him, the _thing_ growing inside me wasn't a child at all—monstrous or not. It was a malignant tumor, a leech, an infestation. And most importantly, a safety hazard to the well-being of his wife that needed to be exterminated as soon as possible.

I wanted to run from him in horror.

 _What could I do?_ I panicked.

I didn't dare to voice my thoughts aloud for fear that Edward would use them against me. I thanked the heavens once again for my strange imperviousness to his telepathy. Today it might spell the difference between saving my child and losing it.

 _Would I be able to reason with the others?_ I thought frantically. Perhaps if Carlisle could be convinced that my life wasn't in danger from this unusual baby, Edward would change his mind.

 _But what if I couldn't?_ I reasoned pessimistically. _What if this vampire child is a threat to my health in a greater sense than just normal morning sickness? It isn't normal… that's for sure. And if it gets anywhere near as strong as Edward while I'm still carrying it…_

I cringed as I imagined the little underdeveloped baby accidentally kicking into my spine, unknowingly severing my spinal cord and crippling me for life. Or possibly even killing me instantaneously with its ludicrous strength.

Maybe _that_ was why Edward had suddenly launched into action when I had mentioned that he was moving. I didn't want to picture my baby that way. He was so beautiful in my head. And I couldn't imagine that something so small and innocent would ever knowingly want to cause me pain.

But the fact that he might do so inadvertently was probably a given at some point. He was probably just too small right now. But with how swiftly he was growing, that would soon change...

Suddenly, I found myself understanding Edward's pain a little.

We'd risked my death so many times before. And with how critical my existence was to Edward, I realized he probably couldn't handle it again. Now he'd totally snapped and wasn't going to take any chances… the life of his own kin be damned. That was the depth of his love for me.

But I didn't want that. I didn't want him to kill our baby, no matter the dangers that accompanied carrying it to term. I wanted us to be a _family_.

 _Did this explain Alice's strange silence on the phone_? I speculated frightfully. _Is that what she'd seen? Edward and Carlisle killing that pale, perfect child before he could live?_

"No," I said again, my voice stronger. That could _not_ be. I would not allow it.

There was a tentative nudge in my womb, like the child within me could feel the tension in the air and was looking for a reassurance that I wouldn't let it be unfairly taken to its execution when it hadn't done anything wrong. All it had ever done really was exist. And I couldn't find it in me to blame the little unborn infant for that. It wasn't like he had any control over it. Edward and I had decided to have sex. And it appeared there were biological repercussions of that fact.

 _It's okay. We're okay,_ I thought toward the bump. _I will protect you. No matter what._

"We're keeping the child," I affirmed with surprising audacity.

I watched as Edward's face grew sad and serious, before it burned with an icy rage. I shivered under it. But Edward didn't move to reprimand me for my choice until I started for the bathroom.

Then his hand caught my shoulder and I nearly jumped out of my skin with fright. He was livid with me. And highly suspicious.

"Where are you going?" His voice was hard, loveless. And his eyes seethed with an emotion akin to betrayal, like my desire to protect our newest member of the family against his wishes was somehow a rejection of him.

I didn't understand it. _How could he think that I couldn't love them both?_ _Did he think I wanted the little nudger inside me to live just to spite him? That I was rebelling against his murderous inclinations for rebellion's sake?_

I paused in the hallway, carefully considering my response before I answered him. "To brush my teeth again." I lied.

Well, I really was going to brush my teeth. But that wasn't my primary purpose in going to the restroom.

Edward seemed to accept this after a while. He let me go with one last reluctant glance over his shoulder. "We're leaving as soon as you're done." It was spoken as an order. I found myself shivering again as the commanding syllables reached my ears.

Edward seemed to believe, (probably correctly so), that the longer we waited, the harder it would be to get me to change my mind. And if he was able to rush me directly to Carlisle without any distractions or possible other interferences, they could efficiently strap me down and cut my little miracle out of my stomach before I could call anyone strong enough to stop them to my aid.

Knowing this, I needed to act fast if I wanted to have any chance of saving my baby's life. But I couldn't do that with Edward watchfully hovering over me. I had hoped he would disappear to finish packing when I announced my intention to go into the bathroom. But instead he paced silently around the bedroom, waiting for me to finish brushing my teeth.

When I came out again, I still desperately needed a few seconds alone, so I stalled, giving him a task that would definitely force him to vacate the area.

"Um, Edward? Could you… pack some of the food? You know, in case I get hungry again?"

"Of course," he said.

His eyes were still slightly wary as I made my request, but not enough for him to suspect my true intentions. I had never been a very good liar before, and was surprised at how easy it was when I had something extremely important to protect. Protecting _myself_ with falsehoods had been impossible. But protecting my little angel with them was a piece of cake.

I guess you could say I was motivated.

"Don't worry about anything," Edward went on, straining to make his voice sound tender, but ultimately settling for slightly-less-pissed-off. "We'll get to Carlisle in just a few hours really. This will all be over soon."

 _All be over soon?_ Edward was completely discounting what I had said earlier. He was either assured that the doctor could convince me to change my mind about our baby. Or totally unconcerned for my personal feelings on the matter.

I fought to suppress a tremor of horror as I imagined Edward furiously cutting the baby out of me himself. The mirage of my husband hacked at the marble-like skin protecting our child with with every surgical implement he could find, resorting to an industrial-grade saw when all other tools failed. And in the vision, I cried in agony and desperately pleaded for him to stop.

But the imaginary Edward ignored my shrieks, my demands that he not hurt our baby. Instead, after my stomach was nothing more than a mangled mess, he offered empty assurances that I would be alright now, before he coldly told Carlisle to "dispose of it".

All the blood present in my horrible vision made me feel woozy. But instead of passing out, I just nodded numbly in response to the callous words Edward had spoken in reality, not trusting my voice—it would betray me for sure.

After a moment that felt like forever, Edward finally turned and left the room with one big suitcase in each hand.

As soon as he was gone I whirled around and scooped up the phone he'd left on the counter. It was very unlike him to forget things. But he was so stressed today that he was barely himself. Instead he was cold, angry, scary, violent…

 _Whatever happened to the gentle, lopsidedly-smiling and darkly humorous Edward that I had come to love? Where was he now, and who was this hateful, murderous doppelganger that had replaced him?_

 _Would he really destroy our child while I continued to make it perfectly clear that I wanted to keep it_? I thought as I reached for the abandoned phone, traumatized by my recent imagination. _And more importantly, could I ever love him after that?_

I chewed on my lower lip in deep thought. I highly doubted that I could.

But there was no time for me to ponder that train of thought any further. Today's uncharacteristic forgetfulness on Edward's part was to my advantage. But there was no guarantee it would last for very long.

With my heart hammering in my chest, I picked up the phone, flipped it open and scrolled through the pre-programmed numbers. I was glad he had the sound turned off. I was still afraid that he would catch me.

 _Would he be at the boat now? Or back already?_ I worried as I listened for any indication of his movements nearby. _Would he hear me from the kitchen if I whispered?_

But I had no other choice. I couldn't just remain silent, even if he could hear me. This was my only shot.

At last, I found the number I wanted, one I had never called before in my life, and one I had never imagined I ever would. After a fleeting hesitation based on prior bad experiences with this person and a fear that they would let that stop them from helping me, I pressed the "send" button and tightly crossed my fingers.

 _Please pick up, please pick up_ , I implored silently from hundreds of miles away.

"Hello?" the beautiful feminine voice like golden wind chimes answered after three rings.

I found myself gasping in relief. I was surprised by how kind she sounded, it wasn't an emotion I associated with her. But of course, this was Edward's phone, so she probably thought I was him.

If she had known I was calling, I would expect her to throw her phone into the nearest ditch and severely punish who ever had leaked her number to me. She didn't like me at all.

But I had to take this chance, she was the only one I thought would understand.

"Rosalie?" I whispered as quietly as I could. I hoped it was too low for Edward's supernaturally strong ears. "It's Bella. You have to help me."


	2. Chapter 2: Pain and Fury

**AN: As many of you probably noticed, the last chapter gleaned a lot from Breaking Dawn, though it wasn't purely copy paste. From this point on, though, we'll be diverging from what's in the book. :)**

 **Also a lot of you were hoping Bella would call Aro at the end there. Make no mistake they will meet at some point, but he isn't the first person she's going to reach out to in this crisis. She barely knows him right now.**

* * *

...

 _I will remember that there is art to medicine as well as science,_

 _and that warmth, sympathy, and understanding_

 _may outweigh the surgeon's knife or the chemist's drug._

 _\- Modern (1964) Version of the Hippocratic Oath_

...

CHAPTER TWO: PAIN AND FURY

Edward was painfully silent during the boat ride back to the mainland. Nor did he say a word while we hurried through the crowded Brazilian airport to catch our uniquely scheduled flight back to Seattle. I made several attempts to get him to speak along the way, desperate to understand why he was acting like this, and eager to break the palpable tension between us. But he wasn't having any of it. Until we reached home, his lips were sealed.

Though really, his unwillingness to say anything as we traveled, and the way he dragged me around angrily by the arm, clutching my wrist tightly in his bruising grip, told me everything that I needed to know. That he was furious with me for wanting to throw myself in harm's way once again. Especially to protect something he evidently saw as a monster. And that he wasn't going to be hearing any of my complaints.

That last bit is what disturbed me the most. Certainly he had done things against my wishes before. But those had always been things that I was ultimately okay with. Like saving my life from James, even though I'd explicitly told him not to come after me. Or keeping me from seeing Jacob because he could potentially hurt me in wolf-form. But inwardly I swore this situation was different.

And Edward, the _father_ , ought to recognize that.

Disregarding my feelings to keep me safe from external danger made sense. But being completely apathetic towards—no, _antagonistic_ towards—the existence of _our_ child made no sense at all.

 _Wasn't it natural to immediately love your children with all of your heart?_ I thought.

I shuddered as I remembered how ice-cold Edward's voice had been when he said, referring to my baby that he would "take care of it". _Apparently not._

When we finally boarded our plane, I wasn't surprised to discover was utterly empty except for us two passengers, given the bizarre timing of our departure. I moved to quickly thank the pilot for accommodating us before we took off.

Edward, however, seemed to mistake my sudden beeline for the front of the plane as an escape attempt. So he grabbed my arm harshly and tried to force me down into one of the large first-class seats. His fingers coiled hard around my vulnerable skin. And the pressure exerted there was suddenly sharp and extremely painful.

"Ow! Let go! I can sit down on my own!" I hollered, pushing weakly against his iron grip on my wrist.

But it didn't budge. Instead it tightened even further in response to my protests. And didn't let go as I continued to refuse being pushed back into the cushy leather seat.

"Edward! You're hurting me!" I screamed louder as the pain worsened.

My outcry garnered the attention of our stiffly dressed flight attendant. She seemed, from her uneasy expression as she approached, to regard me as some sort of battered woman. Her worried gaze toward her cellphone pocket, like she wanted to call the police, finally caused my angry husband to drop my hand like it had burned him.

A dark black and blue pattern was imprinted into my skin in the exact shape of Edward's hand. Both of us stared at in horrified shock for a moment before he launched into a profuse, self-loathing apology. While he verbally beat himself up, I shakily stepped backwards from him, afraid of his superhuman strength for the first time in my life. I opted to sit across the aisle from him instead of in the seat he had reserved for me, choosing to place myself safely out of his crushing reach.

Edward noticed my choice to distance myself from him with heartbroken eyes. But ultimately he reigned in his comments and opted instead to stare with an unreadable expression in the other direction. He peered out of the little square window down at the shrinking earth beneath us.

Again he was silent for the rest of the flight. Even when I noisily barfed up the pretzels I had eaten earlier into a little white bag provided precisely for that purpose, and handed it to the repulsed flight attendant to throw away. My only consolation was that after a few hours of sitting absolutely straight in my chair with my teeth on edge, I ended up exhausting myself.

I was asleep for the remainder of our journey.

...

Alice was waiting for us at the airport, along with Carlisle and the rest of the family. But as my eyes anxiously roved over their faces, taking in their various expressions, which ranged from confusion and concern to deep anxiety, I fixated in on one in particular—the gorgeous blonde. Her topaz eyes immediately settled on my barely protruding belly with an envious light in them before they warmed and met my face.

I had never imagined that I would be so thrilled to see Rosalie. But here I was, on the verge of bursting into tears because she had come.

Because her being here meant that I had a chance to save my baby.

Before Edward or anyone else could stop me, I immediately ran up to her and enveloped the taller, curvier woman in a desperate, clingy embrace and sobbed hysterically into her chest. The pregnancy hormones must already be getting to me, making me behave even more irrationally than usual.

Rosalie flinched under my unexpected display of emotion for half a second, taken off guard, before her cool arms tenderly encircled my slender frame. She returned my illogical affection with a surprising genuineness. It least, it felt genuine. There was really no way I could tell how she actually felt. But it was a hell of lot more comforting than Edward's viciously hard hands, terse silence and burning desire to destroy the life growing inside me. So I would take it.

After a moment, I realized that the others were staring at us. Abashedly, I detached from the statuesque blonde, but only enough to see their faces. I still held one of Rosalie's cold, perfect hands in a stranglehold grip for security.

Alice seemed to accept our unlikely alliance with a slow nod. Though it was clear from the deep frown that marred her little oval face that she didn't like it.

Jasper (who could feel all of my crazy emotions bubbling over) lost the skeptical look in his eyes. I guessed he probably hadn't believed I was actually pregnant until he'd witnessed the signs for himself.

Carlisle kept worriedly glancing between Edward and the perceptible bump on my stomach.

Esme did the same switching back and forth of her warm golden eyes as her husband. Though she moved between Carlisle and me instead.

And Emmett looked like he didn't know what to think. Especially with his gorgeous wife suddenly responding so positively to my proximity.

There was a tense second of silence that followed, during which I heard Edward grinding his teeth behind me, before all hell broke loose.

Very suddenly everyone was shouting at each other, starting with Edward and Rosalie. But the conversation rapidly escalated to include the entire Cullen family. Except Carlisle, who remained perplexedly silent.

The doctor watched the scene before him unfold with minor horror. Everyone was boisterously declaring their opinions. Their opinions of what was the best way to approach this unexpected development. And no one was really bothering to listen to the arguments hoisted up passionately by the others.

"Carlisle, we need to act fast before Bella is put in any more danger!" Edward bellowed towards his surrogate father.

At Edward's command, Carlisle slowly stepped towards. His face held compassionate concern, and his hands were warmly outstretched.

But I wanted nothing to do with what he was offering.

"No!" Both Rosalie and I screamed at the same time.

Carlisle stopped dead in his tracks in bewilderment and indecision.

"Wait Carlisle, should we run some tests first… just to be sure?!" Esme interjected. Her question was directed towards Edward, hoping to calm him down and encourage him not to take rash, hasty action without proper knowledge.

"Oh she's pregnant alright," Jasper confirmed with a sour expression. "Her emotions are all over the place."

"You knew about this, Rose?" Emmett asked, turning to his wife. He looked extremely confused and horribly out of the loop. "And you're okay with _it_?" He pointed towards my belly.

I cringed when he called my baby an "it" just like Edward had before, because he'd said it with a fair degree of malice, and word itself was so dehumanizing to my child. There just wasn't a decent gender neutral term for people. "It" usually referred to inanimate objects, which was why, despite not having an ultrasound to confirm it, I insisted on referring to my baby as "he".

"Of course! Why wouldn't I be?" Rosalie bit back venomously. She bared her teeth and adopted a protective stance that clearly showed her determination to protect me if anyone tried to forcefully excavate my unborn miracle against my will.

"But it's not normal… we don't have any idea what _it_ even is! What if it kills her?" Emmett rebutted. "If it's anything like us…"

"Bella should go with Carlisle! It's what's best for everyone," Alice butted into the conversation unexpectedly, cutting off what Emmett was about to say. Her eyes darkened with a look of foreboding gloom that honestly terrified the crap out of me.

 _What exactly had she seen? And why on earth wouldn't she tell me?_

"What?" I asked, hoping that Alice, or anyone else, was willing to elaborate.

But no one answered—they were too busy hissing at each other.

"But I thought you said you couldn't see her future anymore?" Jasper contributed before Alice could clarify any further. Evidently he was stumped by the apparent contradiction. "At least, not more than a few seconds ahead…"

This was news to me. _Alice couldn't see my future?_

"But I can still see _ours_..." Alice reminded her husband. Her perfectly painted lips pulled behind her teeth in fierce grimace. "And I don't like it!" she snarled.

This only made my head spin faster as I struggled to understand what on earth might have her so passionately against the idea of me being pregnant with Edward's child. If Alice was against this… I might be fighting a lost cause. Everyone relied on her gift to determine the best outcome.

"Carlisle!" Alice shouted, looking my nervous father-in-law meaningfully in the eye. "Take it out of her now!" She jabbed an angry finger in the general direction of my swollen abdomen.

Carlisle hesitated and almost started forward before my aggrieved facial expression made him stop.

"N-no! Please Alice!" I begged desperately.

Globby wet tears waterfalled over my cheeks as the horrible vision of a miniature Edward getting ripped apart by my husband and Carlisle with a variety of terrifying medical instruments resurfaced vividly in my mind. I couldn't let that happen to him—I couldn't live without my baby!

"Bella wants to keep the baby!" Rosalie screeched.

Rosalie tensed into a combative crouch as if ready to spring on the first person who made a move for me. Then she growled low in warning like a lioness defending her territory.

In tacit understanding, Carlisle didn't inch even a millimeter closer. Instead he held up his hands in a surrendering pose and took a few graceful steps back.

"But if she does that, Rose, we'll have to face the Volturi!" Alice hollered even louder.

Her words echoed off of the tall ceiling and walls of the enormous room we were standing in. And caused all the ambient chatter around us to suddenly cease.

 _Wait… the_ _ **Volturi**_ _?_ That was the last thing I had expected Alice to say. _What did_ _ **they**_ _have to do with any of this?_

Edward also looked just as confused as I was. And he was about to angrily demand an explanation, his mouth parted in a vicious "O" and his teeth savagely dripping with venom, before Carlisle held up a hand to silence everyone.

"Perhaps this is a conversation best held at home," he said, looking over at the small crowd of people gathered in our proximity. There were about forty of them. And they were all openly staring at us, like they'd been watching the whole time. Watching us while we screamed in front of the baggage carousel as we waited for mine and Edward's suitcases.

We really had made quite the scene. Seven model-worthy-gorgeous people and one hideous brown-haired girl, all shrieking and growling at each other like wild animals, despite our extremely public location.

I wondered how much the nervous onlookers had gathered from our passionate yelling. _Did they think I was just a pregnant teen casting a bad light on this otherwise perfect family? And that the family wanted to force me into aborting the problem?_

Or had they caught the subtler nuances—that I was carrying something unusual? Something supernatural?

I sincerely hoped not...

Emmett's remarks _could_ be written off as evidence that my pregnancy was life-threatening for other reasons (like the egg was fertilized outside the womb). And Alice's clairvoyance simply as superstition. And no one had said the v-word...

But Emmett had come extremely close. And Alice _had_ revealed a critical piece of information to the crowd around us.

Luckily, I doubted that any of the confused passengers waiting for their luggage around us knew that the word "Volturi" referred to the ruling coven of the vampire world. So they could pass off the foreign word as the name of our distant relatives or something. As long as we didn't inadvertently clarify who they were any further...

If we said any more, though, these unsuspecting humans would know things that could get them killed.

"At home, we can speak freely," Carlisle contributed.

Carlisle caught our luggage traveling around the carousel out of the corner of his eye. He picked it up off the spinning circular conveyor belt. And began striding purposefully towards the elevator which led to the parking garage, with two huge suitcases in each hand.

His definitive movements left no room for argument.

The rest of us spent a moment looking down at our feet, embarrassed with ourselves. Embarrassed that we had almost letting the entire airport know things they could be killed for. All because we were a little frightened and incensed by this situation.

But after that short moment passed, we quickly followed Carlisle out of the room.

…

Carlisle insisted on being the one to drive me. He agreed to let me be accompanied by Esme and Rosalie, since I seemed the most comfortable around them, and only four people would fit in his gleaming, slate-blue Aston Martin Rapide.

I was silently extremely grateful for his choice, because it put distance between me and the two people most eager to hurt my child—Edward and Alice. Who were forced to take the shiny silver Volvo and yellow Porche respectively.

But although the physical space to breathe, and Rosalie's gentle rubbing of my shoulder were soothing, the two automobiles trailing ours made it impossible to feel completely at ease.

We drove ridiculously fast, as all vampires seemed to prefer over following the speed limit. But as we rode, Edward's white, hard face kept staring angrily at me in the rear view mirror. His hands were fastened so tightly to the steering wheel I was worried it would snap under the ludicrous pressure. And Jasper beside him looked totally exhausted, like the effort he was exerting to try and calm Edward down with his powers was physically wearying.

The most worrisome sight though, was that of Alice, who trailed behind Edward's car in her own. Her eyes were glazed over with a thin white film. And they were rolled back almost completely like she was lost in a deep trance. Like she was having another vision.

It worried me that she didn't seem to be even looking at the road. I was seriously doubting that driving while clairvoyant was a safe practice.

Not to mention that the deep scowl etching the rest of her features didn't bode well for my future.

Esme and Rosalie tried to console me when I expressed my fears. They assured me that the two of them would protect me as long as keeping the child was what I wanted. They also promised me that Carlisle would never be so uncouth as to disregard my free will—a sentiment which the doctor himself reluctantly echoed. Though, with the caveat that he would try his hardest to persuade me to reconsider if he determined the baby would be a significant hazard to my health.

But I was inconsolable. My best friend was quite possibly seeing a horrifying vision of us being hunted down and slaughtered by the Volturi because of my choice. And the love of my life was glaring at me with a murderous look in his eyes that made me want to be sick.

When the familiar, beautiful wood and glass house belonging to the Cullens finally came into view a few hours later, I wasn't sure whether to heave a sigh of relief or start freaking out again. On the one hand, we had arrived at a place where I traditionally felt safe and loved. But I'd also had my fair share of life-threatening drama here. And today definitely wasn't going to be an exception to that phenomena.

The atmosphere was already suffocating.

As soon as our three gleaming cars had rolled into the spacious garage beside each other, Edward furiously threw open his car door. He slammed it violently shut on his way out. The expensive metal bent under his hand like tin foil. And the glass window shattered into a thousand tiny pieces.

I jumped, startled in my seat as I heart the car door window break. And I yelped in fright as I noticed that Edward was dashing with a violent energy towards where Carlisle had parked in the immaculate white garage.

I cringed as Edward approached. I expected him to viciously rip the door off of this costly vehicle. And to tear open my womb himself with his bare hands.

But I was probably wrong in my fears. Because doing something like that would only put my life in greater jeopardy. Which was the entire reason Edward wanted his progeny dead.

Regardless of his actual intentions, that was the level of fury I saw in Edward's lean, muscular frame. I didn't even recognize him anymore—he was an impersonator, an alien clone. When he stood outside of my window, glaring down at me with feral wrath, I finally saw what Edward did every time he looked at himself the mirror; what he'd been trying to tell me he was all along.

 _A monster._

Instinctively, I curled up into ball, tucking every part of my body that I could in front of my innocent little baby. I didn't care if I had to lose an arm or a leg to protect him. He was worth it. He was my life now. Although I'd only known of his existence for less than twenty-four hours, I loved him more than anything—my darling, precious little boy.

I was willing to die for him, if that's what it took.

But I also knew that at this point he was much too small, too dependent on the integrity of my anatomy to survive on his own. So even my martyrdom would be meaningless right now.

While I laid against the cushy leather seats, desperately shielding my baby, I heard four animalistic snarls, before someone got out of the car. A sound like heavy boulders tumbling down a mountain reached my ringing ears in the terrifying moments that followed. But the cold, bruising hands I had expected to seize me and haul me kicking and screaming into Carlisle's home medical office never came.

And after an awful few seconds of that rock-against-rock striking sound, I heard Carlisle's voice from outside of the car. It was raised louder than I had ever heard it, trying to put a stop to my husband's sudden, inexplicable rage.

"Edward! Please stop!" Carlisle cried.

My eyes flew open to see what was going on. When they focused, I saw Carlisle wrestling Edward's hands behind his back. Carlisle roughly pulled his son back against his own chest. He stopped dragging and clamped his arms around his son's chest when Edward's coppery hair rested under his chin, and Edward's shoulder-blades were digging into his well-defined pectoral muscles.

"I won't abort the fetus against her will!" the doctor declared as the younger vampire thrashed in his grip, trying to escape.

"It'll hurt her!" Edward protested with an agonized expression. He kept bucking under the strong, rocky arms imprisoning him. "I can't let it do that! I have to stop it now!"

"We will determine our best options after I have her examined," Carlisle said in a much calmer voice, trying to deescalate the situation. Though Edward was being difficult, kicking him relentlessly in the shins.

"I was not aware when you spoke to me over the phone that you hadn't consulted Bella on this issue. You made this sound like a mutual desire." Carlisle heaved a heavy sigh. "I should have asked her directly," he muttered to himself regretfully, turning his head away for half a second.

"I thought it was mutual. No normal human being should be alright with carrying that… that _thing!_ She should be disgusted, horrified!" Edward shrieked, incensed that I hadn't lived up to his expectations.

His irate voice caused me to shrink away from the window again, holding my abdomen even tighter as he disparaged our child. Edward spoke of him like he was some kind of hellish demon spawn, despite not having done much but tentatively nudge around inside me.

Carlisle frowned and twisted Edward around in his grip so that Edward could see his expression. When they faced eye to eye, amber on amber, Carlisle firmly reprimanded his son in a clipped, disappointed tone. "Bella is hardly one to react 'normally' in any situation, Edward. She is... unique. You ought to know this by now."

At this point Edward abruptly stopped struggling. He shrugged off Carlisle's restraining hands. Then he shook his head, befuddled and anxious. "But why? Why does she want it?"

His voice cracked with emotion—fear specifically. Edward was terrified to loose me, I realized, which must be the reason for his anger. He was furious with himself for endangering me again. Especially in a way that was internal, because that meant he couldn't protect me from said danger using his usual tactics.

"Edward… is it so strange that Bella wants to have your child?" Carlisle asked with a sudden tenderness. He switched his terminology from "fetus" to "child" to help his son see my way of thinking. "I am certain that if Esme and I had married while she was still human, she would have wanted the same thing."

"If I were human…" Edward trailed off. He balled his fists tightly at his sides and squeezed his eyes shut, as if that was his greatest desire. "Of course I would understand. But I'm not human—which makes that _thing_ a mutant!" he shouted desperately now. "Look at how she's clutching herself in pain!" He jabbed one pale, accusatory finger towards my swollen belly, which I had curled every part of me around to protect.

 _No you're wrong Edward!_ I thought passionately. Though I was altogether too petrified to speak. Rosalie's hand lying protectively against my shoulder was the only thing that was keeping me from going insane right now. _I'm not in pain!_ I inwardly affirmed.

And I wasn't.

I was just scared out of my mind. All the stress pent up inside my system though, wasn't healthy.

And at that very moment, my darling little miracle decided to start moving again in response to all the commotion. He fluttered fitfully against my skin, his appendages a bit stronger now. The little kicks he gave me stung a bit, I was surprised to notice. But not enough to really hurt. And the sensation was so brief that I barely noticed.

"Please, Edward calm down," Carlisle said softly. He lowered his hands in a placating gesture before pressing a single finger to his lips to silently urge his son not to wake up the entire town with his screeching. "I think she's simply trying to protect what she regards as her infant. You're terrifying her," the doctor observed.

Carlisle looked towards Jasper, who had just appeared on the scene to confirm it.

"Carlisle's right Edward," Jasper contributed with a disdainful expression on his face. "Bella isn't in any pain… _yet._ " He threw a skeptical glare in my direction. Like he was expecting me to howl in agony any minute now.

Jasper turned back to Edward. "But you're scaring her. Badly. Cut it out."

Upon hearing Jasper's accurate assessment of the situation, Edward immediately softened. He unraveled his fisted hands and eased away the tension that had taken up residence in his shoulders, before turning to face me.

I stiffened as Edward's gaze fell upon me. Even though it was considerably warmer than I had seen it in the last twenty hours, I was still afraid of him.

This realization made Edward swallow remorsefully before he offered a guilty apology. "I'm sorry Bella… I didn't mean to scare you… I'm just… this is all so…" Edward cursed under his breath in frustration as his normally articulate lips failed him completely. "I just want you to be okay," he implored with kicked-puppy eyes. Eyes that were shining with venom the way vampire eyes did when they teared up. "I need you."

Finally finding the courage to speak, I weakly croaked out, "And I need this baby."

My voice had shaken so much as I said it that I feared my remark had been utterly unintelligible. And the words were delivered in barely more than a whisper. But the thin glass standing separating us was far from soundproof, especially to Edward's hypersensitive ears, so he caught them all.

I watched in horror as his whole body hardened from its tender stance into jagged, angry lines in response. Every muscle in his body flexed with what looked like violent intent. And his perfectly arched eyebrows practically burrowed into the top of his eyelids to form a livid "v" shape.

The tendons in Rosalie's fingers rippled over my skin in preparation to fight as my husband stormed petulantly past the car. She looked ready to claw him apart herself if he lunged for me again. But with one last burning glare, Edward merely disappeared into the house and stormed sulkily upstairs.

Finding ourselves alone in the garage, Esme, Rosalie and I turned to each other and exchanged worried glances before we decided to get out of the car the discuss our next move with Carlisle. The doctor was still standing in the front yard. His black slacks were smeared in dirt. And his pale blue button-up shirt was shredded around the collar from his recent skirmish.

"Carlisle, is Edward…?" Esme hesitantly asked her husband, lightly brushing his shoulder as she came up to him. It looked like she was trying to simultaneously sooth away his remorseful feelings and express that she was worried about the well-being of their son.

Carlisle looked up in response to the tactile sensation, his expression unstiffening as his wife filled his vision. "He'll be alright, Esme," he comforted her.

Carlisle slid a hand up to trace Esme's chin before he gracefully pulled her in for a long embrace. Esme surprisingly returned the gesture with full enthusiasm. She pressed her entire body flush with his and deposited a small, swift kiss on the man's forehead. A kiss that made Carlisle look like he wanted to blush.

"I know, I just worry for him sometimes. His life is tethered to Bella's. If she…" Esme trailed off. She was unwilling to say what everyone was thinking out loud while she absently ran her fingers down Carlisle's back.

"I will do my very best to make sure that doesn't happen," Carlisle assured her. He deposited a small kiss of his own on her cheek, before he continued. "For both of their sakes, I hope that we can find a peaceful resolution," he said hopefully, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

After an awkward moment of gazing amorously into his wife's eyes, Carlisle stepped forward. He cordially extended an arm in the direction of his home.

"Bella, let's go have a look at you, shall we?"

…

While Edward seethed in his room—and I knew he was seething, rather than sulking because of the way Jasper kept furrowing his brow and sending calming waves in that direction to try and stem his temper—Carlisle ran every possible test in the book on me.

The tests confirmed my suspicions, but also left a lot of pivotal questions unanswered. I was pregnant—that much was obvious to me before he'd ran any tests. And every test so far (peeing on a stick, checking my blood, running my hormone levels, etc.) had backed that fact up. Unfortunately, that was about all that they revealed.

No "freaky crap" turned up in my blood as Jacob had said would happen if he were to ever try out for the Olympics. And I had no unusual symptoms as far as pregnancy was concerned. Well, except for the fact that I appeared to already be at least twenty weeks in, when I should only have been two at most, if I'd been fertilized on the first night Edward and I had slept together.

It was all very curious.

After hours of running and rerunning every basic test he could think of, Carlisle hesitantly asked if he could extract some amniotic fluid. He wanted it so he could run a karyotype test in order for us to determine the chromosomal count, and thus somewhat of the nature of my child.

I didn't like needles very much. And being hyper-protective of my new baby, I hadn't liked the idea of Carlisle sticking an enormous one anywhere near him.

But in Carlisle's desperation to understand what we were dealing with, he had insisted on doing so. Vampires, he explained to me, had twenty-five chromosome pairs, werewolves had twenty-four and humans had twenty-three. Depending on the number, he rationalized that we could have a better idea of what to expect and prepare to care for the child accordingly as much as possible.

I was relieved that Carlisle wasn't dead set on exterminating him if my child turned out to have twenty-five chromosome pairs. But the doctor did express a very logical caution towards the safety of carrying such a child, given the ridiculous strength that fully-fledged vampires possessed.

For that reason I almost wished that my child would turn out to have twenty-three, if only because then I could convince Edward that our little angel was harmless. But I had the distinct impression that it might convince Edward of something else—namely, that I had been unfaithful to him.

Edward would never be able to believe that he had fathered a perfectly human baby.

Besides, with the unusual way he was growing, and given the fact that Edward was the father, it was much more likely that my child had twenty-four or twenty-five. But without knowing for sure, Carlisle had warned that we could be approaching this entire endeavor from the completely wrong angle.

Armed with the knowledge that my baby would have the best chance of surviving if we knew what to expect, my maternal instinct demanded that I do everything possible to help my baby. And if that meant sticking a ginormous needle into my belly, then so be it.

Carlisle was very adamant as he prepared the syringe that he knew what he was doing and was not going to harm the child without my consent—preforming abortions on unwilling women was strictly against his scrupulous morals. But as Carlisle delicately attempted the procedure, we ran into a slight problem.

The needle slipped easily, almost painlessly beneath my skin at first. Then it hit a wall, hard and unyielding which rejected the piercing instrument immediately.

Confused, Carlisle tried again and again. In the end, however, none of the needles Carlisle tried to insert into my womb were capable of penetrating the rock-hard layer beneath my skin. Instead they all cracked in half whenever he tried. So the question of how many chromosomes my child had was left unanswered.

And the ultrasound he tried in order to get a better picture of what we were working with afterwards simply came up blank, dark and mysterious. I could be growing a baby octopus in there for all we knew.

It was very disconcerting to know nothing. But at least for the moment my only debilitating symptom was the fact that I couldn't keep down anything I ate. My babies nudges were still small and gentle. And other then being a little lightheaded and dehydrated from throwing up so much, I felt fine.

I stayed awake in Carlisle's office with Rosalie protectively watching me as Carlisle went over the results of his tests over and over, until the sun began peeking lazily over the horizon. When the yellow rays started to pour into the room through the office window, Carlisle finally ordered me off to bed so that I could catch some much needed rest.

With all the crazy drama that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, I had assumed that it would be practically impossible to fall asleep. Every part of me was vibrating with anxiety over what would become of me and my child in light of the uncertainty we faced.

But I was out before I even registered the feathery feeling of my head hitting the pillow.

I guess I really was completely spent.

…

When I woke up sometime in the middle of the next day, the whole family was anxiously waiting for me in the living room. They all sat stonily upright on the luxurious, pale couches, which were arranged in a cozy square. And they all stared at me with intense, unblinking eyes and serious expressions that immediately put me on edge as I made my way nervously down the stairs.

My first instinct was to run away—they looked more like a courtroom full of prosecuting lawyers than friends. Though I relaxed immediately as I saw Rosalie pat the empty space beside her on the sofa, a silent petition to join them. I figured if she believed it would be safe for me to do so, I ought to trust her judgment. It was, as far as I could tell, her chiefest desire to see my child live.

As I settled slowly into the fluffy spot next to Rosalie, I was careful to ease into a sitting position slowly so that I didn't disturb the baby any more than strictly necessary. As I struggled to find a comfortable spot, a few pairs of eyes flickered briefly away from me to gaze warily at each other, before returning to land on my barely protruding stomach.

After I finally settled in, for a few minutes the circle of vampires around me silently deliberated among themselves as to who was going to speak up first. It seemed to me like they wanted to discuss last night's findings and decide how we ought to proceed. This situation instantly reminded of the vote we'd had when I had returned from Italy with Edward—when the Cullens had deliberated about whether to turn me into a vampire or not.

Judging by the disparate emotions I saw glimmering in their golden eyes, I could tell that the opinions of what we should do in light of this unique situation were as diverse as the motley crew themselves. But ultimately, like our vote before, this was a life or death decision and there were only two options.

Unfortunately it wasn't as clear-cut this time as "change into a vampire" or "grow old and die". This time we had _two_ lives involved. Two lives whose desires might be at odds with each other, if the infant did become as monstrous as Edward feared.

And as my frantic brown eyes flickered over the Cullens' frozen, marble faces I also realized another pivotal difference. Many of my supporters from last time were going to be my enemies on this issue. The only one who hadn't changed on that fact was Edward, who was still staunchly against me.

At least that's what his scary eyes said to me now as they bored hatefully into my stomach. Like he was trying to burn a hole straight through the little creature growing there with his arctic glare alone.

I shivered under his malevolent gaze, and fiercely clung onto Rosalie. Though I hadn't wanted to be separated from Edward for a moment since we had first kissed, his presence actually terrified now.

I still felt like I needed him. And I didn't want to be scared of one of the people I couldn't live without. But when his proximity threatened the existence of the other person I couldn't live without, every moment around him was agonizing.

After a long, uncomfortable pause, Carlisle finally cleared his throat and began: "Esme suggested that we try and settle this matter civilly," he said with a small nod towards her. "And I agree that a discussion, rather than a fight would be in our best interests," he contributed with a chastening look directed towards my husband.

Edward emitted a low growl at the allusion to his previous violent behavior and angrily crossed his arms, but otherwise made no comment. Mercifully, he appeared to agree with the other bobbing heads around him that a discussion was an acceptable approach to the problem.

For now, at least.

"As I showed you all last night," Carlisle began after he received assenting nods from everyone, "Bella and I were unable to determine the nature of the fetus she is carrying. We know that it is fast-growing and hasn't harmed her yet. But whether or not it will pose a danger to her physical well-being in the future has yet to be determined."

Carlisle was making an obvious effort to keep his tone as neutral as possible as he explained the details of this frightening situation we now found ourselves in. And although I deeply disagreed with some of his terminology, I kept silent to keep the peace until he was done.

"We believe it is most likely a hybrid of some sort between human and vampire. But even that is only a hypothesis at this point," Carlisle finished with a defeated shrug.

"Jasper and I tried researching some legends…" Emmett added. The tone of his voice suggested that the attempt wasn't very successful. "We turned up a few… the _incubus_ , and the _libishomen_ , but there really isn't much to go on," he said, sighing in frustration.

Jasper decided to chip in his two cents. "Unusual pregnancy caused by demons of the night are mentioned quite a bit in folklore around the world," he offered to clarify that "not much to go on" wasn't for lack of trying. "But we aren't sure how much of these are simply excuses for infidelity and sexual assault and how many are real attempts to understand factual events."

Emmett acknowledged Jasper's words with a nod before he sighed and shook his head morosely. "Regardless, the prospects aren't promising…"

"What do you mean?" I asked desperately. My voice was frantic with worry and my hands instinctively cradled my belly.

 _What did the legends say about my baby? Was I going to lose him anyway? Would my body reject him and miscarry? Is that what Emmett was saying?_

Emmett didn't answer right away. Instead his face looked green, like he was going to be sick.

But after a curt nod from Jasper, Emmett explained in a grave tone, "In every tale we've read so far that sounds anything like what we've got going on here… the woman dies in childbirth."

I was stunned into silence.

But Edward didn't waste any time responding. "Then we have to get it out of her now!"

Rosalie surprised us all by snorting. "Pfft. Of course they all died in childbirth." She tossed an errant hand in the air like all of those women dying was no big deal. A callous gesture that disturbed me until she went on. "Lots of women died in childbirth when most of these stories were written, even with normal pregnancies," she pointed out. "Of course something like a hybrid would be something they were completely unequipped to care for!" she said like it was the most logical deduction in the world.

I found my head bobbing eagerly in agreement. She did have a point.

Rosalie went on. "We have the best medical expert in the world right here." She pointed appraisingly towards Carlisle, who appeared thoroughly embarrassed by the flattery. "Bella will be fine."

"Alice?" Edward demanded. He twisted fiercely in his seat to face his sister— _our_ sister, now that we were married—who sat on the opposite couch from me. Which was ninety-degrees from Edward, who sat on the couch to my right.

"I can't see anything of her future anymore… not any more than the next five seconds anyway…" Alice complained. She pressed her fingers to her temples with an irritated expression like she was suffering from a particularly bad headache.

 _Could vampires get headaches?_ I wondered as I watched her wince and hiss under her breath before continuing. "The last thing I saw before my visions of Bella's future cut out entirely were the Volturi coming to Forks."

"The Volturi?" Edward probed. His words were brimming with a disgust so obvious that it made me twitch.

I hadn't realized there was so much ire there. When he'd introduced me to them, pointing towards the classical painting of the three "nighttime patrons of the arts" hanging in Carlisle's office, there had been no loathing, no disgust, no bitterness… no ill will at all, actually, in his voice.

In fact, he had even offered a justification of sorts for their more unsavory deeds. Without the Volturi, the entire world as I knew it would probably have fallen apart and crumbled into chaos centuries ago. Humans wouldn't take kindly to the idea that there were monsters out there who hunted them. And their attempts to exterminate that threat could spell disaster worse than any zombie apocalypse movie.

But there was no rationalization for their existence in his tone now. He spit their name out like it tasted of urine.

"Aro and some of his guards at least," Alice acknowledged with a sad, small nod.

Edward's face contorted with confusion and indignation. "Why?"

I was surprised that he hadn't seen the reason in Alice's thoughts yet—she must be keeping them extremely well under wraps.

But in that moment, Carlisle looked nervous all of a sudden, like there must be something he knew about Alice's vision that we didn't.

And while he no doubt made a valiant effort of his own to keep such thoughts out of his head, quite predictably, several of the incriminating memories eventually slipped through. And as Edward registered them, I heard him growl with a viciousness that made me cling onto Rosalie even tighter, burying my head into her rock-hard stomach for protection.

"I don't want Aro anywhere near Bella, Carlisle!" Edward bellowed savagely. He sprung up from the sofa with impressive speed and tensed into a threatening crouch in front of the stunned patriarch. "He'll kill her without a second thought! He kills humans all the time!" he cried.

My little boy kicked dully into my side at the mention of death, causing a brief, stinging sensation like a stubbed toe. I was more startled than hurt.

It was like my baby could read my mind. Or at least feel the dizzying adrenaline rush that spiked through me in that moment.

Edward ranted on, his voice frenetic now, "They're _food_ to him."

Carlisle looked like he wanted to protest Edward's crude assessment of his long-distance friend. But Alice beat him to the punch.

"That's not what I see…" Alice started hesitantly with a resolute shake of her head.

I was glad that Alice did not see Aro hungrily ripping into my neck with his razor-sharp teeth among my possible futures. But she quickly pursed her lips, unwilling to say any more. Unwilling to say what she _did_ see.

In the ensuing silence, I wondered what made her so certain of that fact. Aro had looked at me rather thirstily when he'd experienced how much my blood appealed to Edward. And I'd always imagined that feeding was how the Volturi killed their human criminals, which is essentially what I was, since, against their commands, I was still human.

Whatever it was—whatever made Alice believe Aro wouldn't make me into dinner—as it flashed through her head, it clearly made Edward furious.

Which I could only interpret mean that Aro meant for something much, _much_ worse to happen to me.

"Impossible!" Edward shouted irately. He looked ready to strangle someone.

And that was before something else in Alice's mind made his face contort with nauseated horror. "Bella would never…!" Edward insisted with an audible gag.

But before Edward could clarify exactly what he believed I would never do, he swallowed his words. Then he rotated slowly, staring me down with piercing, dead eyes.

I trembled in my seat as he looked me over. It was as if Edward was trying to gaze directly into my soul to determine whether or not I was capable of performing whatever apparently ghastly deed he had seen me do in Alice's visions.

After a paralyzing moment, I tried to convince him that I wouldn't dream of doing whatever it was. Because I was certain that if it was awful enough to make Edward nauseous, I certainly wouldn't be able to stomach it.

But all that came out of my terribly dry mouth was a raspy squeak.

I tried to speak again, to ask what had infuriated him instead. But this time I only managed a rough, scratchy cough—which wasn't what I'd been aiming for. At least it garnered everyone's attention.

"Bella is confused," Jasper revealed through tight lips. "She probably wants to know why the Volturi would come here."

Once again, Jasper had hit the nail on the head.

I nodded enthusiastically to convey my agreement with his suggestion. I was dying to know what on earth brought the austere and deadly coven into this equation. Honestly, they were the last ones I expected to play a role in this never-ending drama. Unless there was there some law the Cullen's had neglected to mention about creating vampire hybrids which I had unwittingly broken.

But as soon as I considered the prospect, I dismissed it immediately. For there to be law there had to be… well… _precedent,_ which would mean this had to have happened before. And I was fairly assured that my baby was the first of his kind.

"Carlisle, perhaps you should explain," Emmett offered. He looked more forlorn that I had ever seen him as he spoke with his rich, bass voice. "You know them, especially Aro, better than any of us."

Carlisle nodded towards my hulking brother-in-law before he turned carefully towards me. He gestured for Edward to resume a sitting position as he launched into a delicate overview of the situation. "Bella… if your pregnancy is already this far along we don't have much time to deliberate in the dark," he asserted rationally.

As Edward grumpily sat back down, Carlisle clasped his hands uncomfortably in his lap and bowed his head in resignation for a moment before he went on. "We need to learn as much as we can about the nature of the fetus as soon as possible, if you intend to keep it."

Carlisle paused again, waiting for a response from me—an indication that I understood—before he proceeded.

I nodded vigorously.

Carlisle accepted the gesture and cleared his throat before he slowly began unveiling more information. "I hadn't considered it until Alice saw them coming," he revealed. "But I am thinking that if we cannot discover anything more about the child on our own, I will contact Aro and see if he has heard of anything like this. He has been around far longer than any of us—if anyone in the world knew what to expect from this pregnancy, it would be him."

Oh. That made sense—a lot of sense, actually.

"But what if he hasn't heard of this, and has nothing to offer?" Edward objected. He rose from the couch again with a crazed expression—like all this uncertainty and possibility of death hanging over my head was driving him clinically insane. "Or what if he thinks Bella is carrying an immortal child?"

My skin prickled as the all-too familiar term reached my ears. _An immortal child?_

The conversation Carlisle and I had about them prior to my wedding resurfaced in my mind.

 _What were they thinking, those ancient ones, I cannot begin to understand,_ Carlisle had said. _They created vampires out of humans who were barely more than infants. They were very beautiful. So endearing, so enchanting you can't imagine. You had but to be near them to love them; it was an automatic thing._

 _However, they could not be taught. They were frozen at whatever level of development they'd achieved before being bitten. Adorable two-year olds with dimples and lisps that could destroy half a village in one of their tantrums. If they hungered, they fed, and no words of warning could restrain them._

An overwhelming sense of dread settled in my heart as I considered what the Volturi's reaction might be if they jumped to that conclusion. If I recalled correctly, Caius certainly hadn't been very forgiving with the Denali sisters' mother...

"But he's not an immortal child!" I shouted as vehemently as I could through my dry throat. I pointed to the little bulge protruding from my belly. "He was conceived, not bitten!" I protested with a cough.

"But what if Aro thinks it's too dangerous to live because it's something he's never heard of?" Edward suggested was the alternative. His eyes flickered anxiously over everyone's faces to let us know he was addressing all of us. "What then?" he demanded through gritted teeth.

Jasper tried to use his powers to sedate his brother's wrath. But Edward snarled at Jasper, thick streams of venom leaking from the corners of his mouth.

Immediately Jasper put up his hands in an "I give up" gesture and stopped what he was doing.

After this, Edward spun violently back to confront Carlisle again. "Will you just stand by and let her be killed along with it?"

Carlisle appeared physically wounded by Edward's assumption. "Of course not. I will protect Bella if it comes to that—we all will."

His declaration earned the tacit approval of everyone in the room.

Well, everyone except Edward, who still had his mouth pressed into an angry line.

When none of them spoke up next, I cleared my coarse throat and eagerly asked, "Carlisle… do you really think that Aro knows something about my baby? Something that could help us?"

"I think it's likely," he admitted confidently.

Suddenly I felt overjoyed with the prospect of the Volturi visiting, despite my earlier reservations. If Aro knew something… _anything at all_ , it would increase my baby's chances for survival exponentially. I almost wanted to hug the slightly-insane, human-drinking vampire myself. Even though he was currently thousands of miles away. And I wasn't entirely sure such a hormonal gesture would be appreciated.

"Though I'm not certain," Carlisle suddenly stipulated. He cautioned me with his hands not to get too excited just yet.

My face fell after hearing this. But that was nothing compared to how I felt after his next words.

"If he truly knows nothing, and there never has been anything like this before…" he went on in a serious voice, acknowledging the frightening possibility that even the ancients could be just in the dark about my miraculous conception as he was. "…This could spell the end for you and your child," he concluded gravely.

I gulped and instinctively swathed my child in loving, shielding arms.

I had some idea, from Edward's earlier insinuations of what the Volturi might proscribe if they believed my baby was a threat. But I still struggled to picture that Aro would see my child in the same, harsh, jaded light my husband did. The infant wasn't even hurting _me_ yet, let alone slaughtering halves of villages.

"Why?" I asked the doctor in a voice just above a whisper.

"Unknowns may be fascinating…" Carlisle said wryly. He sounded very much like he was quoting something Aro had told him several centuries prior. "But they are dangerous to keeping our secret," he elucidated.

Automatically I cringed, and circled my arms tighter around my baby. His words suddenly made the possibility of death make much more sense. It was the Volturi's prime directive to prevent their secret from getting out, after all.

Carlisle paused before adding, with a heavy sigh, "Aro won't like the idea of punishing an innocent—you never _meant_ for this to happen. But his brothers and his guard might pressure him into taking action. So you see, involving him carries a huge risk."

I chewed on my lower lip nervously before looking up into Rosalie's defensively narrowed eyes, silently beseeching her for protection in the event that the Volturi turned on me. The immediate softening I saw there and her gentle squeeze of my shoulder was enough to assure me that she would keep me safe, even if things went horribly south.

But the darkened faces of the rest of the family were not so promising.

"All of this would be unnecessary if Bella just agreed to remove the problem…" Jasper pointed out with a barest of hisses, betraying his true rancor. "No Volturi, no deaths…. We could all just pretend this never happened."

"You're forgetting the part where you _murder_ Bella's baby!" Rosalie yelled, voicing my thoughts exactly.

Her head swiveled rapidly towards Edward, her long platinum blonde curls tossing wrathfully in my face. "Do you think she'll ever forgive you for that, Edward?"

I could tell from the injured look in my husband's golden eyes that her barbed words had hit their mark.

"She doesn't have to," Edward sighed with slumped shoulders.

He collapsed back into the cushions like it was too much effort to sit up straight anymore, despite the fact that I knew vampires never got sore or tired. "She just needs to live," Edward said with a tone of fatalistic defeat, his words flat; soulless. "I can exist in this world as long as she does too—I never said she had to like me."

The way he said it made me feel cold inside. _I didn't have to like him?_ I thought, astonished by this new revelation. _That wasn't what we promised at the altar ten days ago…_

"If I have to be the bad guy to save her life, then so be it."

My heart dropped in my chest, heavy like an anvil sinking to the bottom of the ocean. This couldn't be happening.

"Over my dead body!" Rosalie bellowed.

But even though she sat next to me, I barely heard her shouting because every part of me had suddenly gone entirely numb. Every sound in my ears was muffled and indistinct. Every shape before my eyes fuzzy, twisted and muddled. Every sensation distant, as though it were miles and miles away…

I was too focused on what Edward had just said to care as the two hurled violent threats and insidious insults at one another over my shoulders. _Edward didn't need me to love him. He only needs me alive._

Immediately, that same gaping hole in my chest from when Edward abandoned me after my eighteenth birthday reopened. The edges of that hole were still surprisingly raw and festering.

I'd thought that I'd recovered from the crushing depression I'd faced during that point in my life. That now that Edward was back at my side, I would never have to face that awful hell ever again. But the pain, betrayal and despair from that time all resurged in my being with almost fluid ease. Almost like they'd never gone away at all.

 _He doesn't need me. He doesn't_ _ **want**_ _me,_ I repeated gloomily to myself.

I sniffled as my mucous membranes swelled with salty water all of a sudden. _My existence is all that matters to him,_ I realized.

My eyelashes stuck wetly together as I blinked in devastation and alarm. And my hands trembled now as they gripped Rosalie's pale arm. _My feelings… my love… all of that is… inconsequential to him…_

Tears started to spill over my cheeks in rivers. And my baby was roaming again, his touches softer now, reassuring almost.

Dimly, I heard two loud, guttural growls echo through the pristine air. But I didn't move in the slightest—I didn't even flinch. There were much more pressing things on my mind right now.

 _But if Edward doesn't want my love… why does my life matter to him at all?_ I fought frantically to comprehend his manner of thinking.

I conjured up every reasonable scenario I could imagine for that state of affairs. But no matter how long I puzzled over it, Edward's true reasons for keeping me around eluded me, as they always had.

 _I don't understand him at all!_ I despaired. _My own husband!_

"Children! Children, please! Calm down," Carlisle cried out in fervent chastisement over the commotion happening around me, shaking me out of my depressive thoughts. "I don't want any more fights—and no one is going to die!"

He was very firm about that. His powerful biceps rippled beneath his long-sleeved shirt. He was ready to leap into the middle of the confrontation and make sure that such a thing didn't happen.

"As for whether you believe Bella ought to keep…" Carlisle faltered for a second, debating his choice of terminology, "…what she now carries," he settled on at last. Which was probably as neutral as he could manage. "Fetus" was too clinical, which immediately conjured up the image of abortion in my mind. And "baby" was too loaded with emotional impact for something that wasn't even human.

"You may cast your vote, yes or no," Carlisle allowed. "But ultimately this is Bella's decision."

Edward let out a low hiss of disapproval. He wanted the vote to be binding.

But I ignored him and eagerly nodded my head. Carlisle was right. Keeping the baby or not was _my_ decision, not theirs. Or had they forgotten that it was the twenty-first century?

"No," Alice said coldly, casting her vote with a firm shake of her head. "I cannot see her future." A strange, fearful light shone in her normally chipper eyes that suggested her lack of foresight deeply disturbed her. "The Volturi will come and everything thus far points to death. I don't want that for my sister."

My heart lurched as I heard this. I was grateful that, as a friend, Alice wanted to protect me from potential harm. But simultaneously I felt sick that she was willing to condone ending the life of my precious child in order to achieve that end.

I tried to tell her that my baby's death would be just as unbearable for me to endure as mine, or any of the other Cullens' deaths would be for her. But Alice wouldn't have any of it. She silently mouthed the words "I'm sorry" in my direction. Then she stilled, freezing in place like a statue, not even bothering to breathe in order to let me know that the matter was firmly settled in her mind, and she wasn't going to debate it any longer.

I swallowed uneasily as I processed her position. So _this_ was what broken friendship felt like.

"I also vote no," Jasper pledged. He reached across the couch to tenderly grasp his wife's hand and they shared a fleeting knowing glance before he explained his thinking. "For Alice's reasons, Bella's safety, and because all her pregnancy mood swings are driving me crazy," he pronounced bitterly.

Then the empath immediately began viciously chewing Edward out. "If you had only transformed her beforehand…!"

"Jasper, that's enough," Esme sternly chided.

This instantly shut Jasper up. He sank curmudgeonly back into his seat. And folded his arms tensely across his chest, struggling to even out his own emotions with exaggerated deep breaths.

"My vote…" Edward supplied after a few seconds, his tone surprisingly haughty. "One which you ought to give special consideration because I'm the one responsible…"

Carlisle's voice interrupted him, curt, and forbidding. "Edward. Don't."

Edward shifted in annoyance in his seat as he registered Carlisle's forbiddance. His eyes narrowed even further and his tongue clicked once irately against his teeth as he was forced to amend his statement.

"My vote is no," Edward declared at last, his words cold enough to freeze Hell over. "Because it will kill her," he stated as though I were already dead to him, a broken white corpse in his arms. "And because any _child_ of mine can only be what I am—a soulless, monster."

 _So he still wasn't convinced that he had a soul—all my efforts to persuade him notwithstanding. Was there anything I could possibly tell him now to change his mind that I hadn't already told him?_ I thought despondently.

"Edward…" Carlisle began hesitantly. He was evidently just as upset as I was with his son's horribly pessimistic outlook on his—as far as I could tell—magnificent second life.

But no sooner than the words had left the doctor's marble-like lips, Edward acidly cut him off. "That's my vote, Carlisle. Take it or leave it."

Carlisle grimly nodded before gesturing broadly to the rest of the family to continue expressing their opinions.

Rosalie went next. "Yes," she said brightly, her stunning face aglow with radiant happiness. Her hands ran softly over my shoulders as a tactile demonstration of support.

Her positive response was a much needed balm for my aching heart. And once again I found myself crying, this time gushy tears of joy. I was infinitely glad that I had chosen to confide in her first. Rosalie, my most unlikely ally, was turning out to be my most dependable lifeline throughout this harrowing crisis.

Of course, I was the only one who saw her this way. Everyone else was looking at Rosalie either with wary, cautionary expressions. Or with intense, penetrating glares.

I guess they saw her unequivocal backing of my decision as a threat.

"I vote yes because Bella deserves the same happiness as everyone else," Rosalie pronounced in the face of all the disapproving eyes now latched onto her person. "And if she wants to have a baby then she should! And we should help her, not conspire to kill it behind her back!" she said with a feral snarl.

A heavy silence followed Rosalie's remarks, during which the Cullens exchanged uncomfortable looks.

"I say yes…" Esme said tentatively after the tension had almost completely dissipated. "If that is truly what you want dear," she specified.

Esme's warm golden eyes searched mine out after she cast her vote, conveying their willingness to acquiesce to my desires. Though, they also pleaded with me to be reasonable if circumstances ever changed to place me in urgent, life-threatening danger.

"I only hope that _if_ the others are right, and you are in danger, that you reconsider. I don't want to see you hurt."

She said the last sentence with a degree of motherly sincerity that the other's had lacked. A sincerity which prevented me from being able to be angry at her for not unconditionally okaying sustaining the life of my son.

"Th-thank you, Esme," I said raspily, with a smile. I was touched by her willingness to defy the others for my sake, despite her typically non-confrontational nature.

"Of course."

There was a loud sigh. "No," Emmett contributed at last, heaving his massive shoulders in defeat. I got the sense he really didn't want to answer, due to the dearth of knowledge we had regarding the infant I carried, but felt forced into compliance.

Rosalie glared at her husband.

"Now Rose, I know what you're thinking, but we disagreed last time, right? I'm just worried for her, that's all. The Volturi coming here is a pretty big deal and I don't want you to get hurt either, my darling sugar-muffin…"

"Nice one, Emmett, but I'm not budging," Rosalie rebutted with a saucy smirk.

Emmett shrugged playfully. "Well, a man has to try…"

"And you, Carlisle?" Alice practically choked out.

He had yet to answer. And ultimately his vote carried the most weight in this coven, since he was its founder and its head.

Because of this, like everyone else, I was desperate to hear what he had to say. I leaned forward so that the words would filter uninterrupted into my inferior human ears.

"I vote yes," Carlisle said.

He paused to appraise the stupefied reactions of his family before he continued. "I should be a little more clear, that is, I am saying _yes_ to Bella's current desires… it is, ultimately _her_ body, and to remove a part of it without her consent would be barbaric, really," he affirmed as if such a notion ought to be obvious.

Carlisle inclined his head towards me."I think I have been rather open with my feelings, Bella." His tone had changed from one of moral uprightness to one of fatherly tenderness. "Choosing the life of the unborn could be extremely hazardous, and I am willing to perform an abortion if that's what you want."

I squirmed uneasily at his casual mention of killing my baby, and Carlisle immediately redacted when he saw my reaction. "Of course if you do not want that, I won't allow any such thing in my house," he resolved, ultimately laying down the law that the others would have to follow.

A fact which Edward recognized with no small measure of chagrin on his face.

"You never need fear that I will try anything of the sort when you are against it," Carlisle promised. "I swore an oath to never do any harm," he reminded me in a low, soothing voice, referring to the Hippocratic oath that all doctors took, which had sort of become Carlisle's life motto. "I merely assumed over the phone that's what you and Edward had decided together…" Carlisle revealed."I am sorry for that mistake, Bella."

I nodded quickly in comprehension before I cast a hateful glare of my own at Edward. _How dare he presume to make such an important decision without me!_

"And if it starts hurting her? Breaking Bella's bones?" Edward bit out in angry accusation. It sounded like he already knew Carlisle's answer—which I supposed, thanks to his powers, he probably did. He just wanted to compel the doctor to voice his thoughts aloud.

"Keeping the child goes against my better instincts, Edward," Carlisle said. He pinched the bridge of his nose slightly as if Edward's constant, sharp retorts were giving him a headache. "I have told Bella as much plenty of times."

"You didn't answer my question."

"The choice is still hers, Edward," Carlisle stated almost contemptuously.

Clearly, the doctor was tired with his son's relentless insistence that I be carted off, thrashing and howling, and be crudely administered the most demented kind of medicinal care imaginable—to me at least. Perhaps if the situation was different, if this wasn't Edward's child, but instead I was carrying a child conceived by rape, fathered by some horrifying stranger, then I would feel differently.

But even then I couldn't be sure. The baby would still be innocent…

"Just as I respect the wishes of capable adults who refuse blood transfusions for religious reasons, I will not administer treatment she is opposed to, even if it is the most medically advisable option," Carlisle recited, as though quoting directly from some hospital contract he'd had to sign at some point before becoming employed.

"You would let her die." It wasn't spoken as a question, but rather a frigid, unforgiving condemnation.

"I will do absolutely everything in my power to prevent…"

"And if that isn't enough?!"

Carlisle pursed his lips guiltily. He quickly cast his eyes over the room, surveying the emotions of his family, especially lingering on me and my growing stomach, before he spoke. "If her heart still beats, I will change her," he promised. "If not…"

Carlisle trailed off uneasily, not really wanting to even consider the horrifying scenario he was describing. "Then there is nothing more I can do for her, Edward," he said brokenly. His voice strained with fathomless sorrow. And his eyes swam with trapped venomy tears. "She knows the risks. Bella's life is in her own hands."


	3. Chapter 3: Gifts and Betrayals

**AN: So Alice has seen some interesting things hmm? Let's see how the future pans out for Bella. ;)**

 **Oh and thank you for all your lovely reviews! I very much look forward to reading them. They're very inspiring. :D**

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 _..._

 _Most especially must I tread with care in matters of life and death._

 _-Modern Version of the Hippocratic Oath_

...

CHAPTER THREE: GIFTS AND BETRAYALS

After Carlisle had laid down the law that no one would do anything at all to my baby unless I permitted them to, a number of surprising things happened in rapid succession that next morning.

The first was that Alice and Jasper had disappeared before I awoke.

They took all of their possessions with them, which was surprising, since no one had seen them leave and they had a _lot_ of stuff. And the only clue they'd left was a cryptic note addressed to me resting innocently on the coffee table. It had been written on the back of the title page of the _Merchant of Venice,_ which I thought was a bit odd _,_ (why deface a book when there was plenty of good paper to be found). Her letters were scrawled sloppily in black ink like she'd been in a hurry, so it was almost impossible to decipher. But from her absence, I gathered the gist of what it must say, so I didn't bother exerting the strain it took to read it just yet. Instead, I tucked the torn page away in between the leafs of a pregnancy book I was struggling to get through, to be examined at a later date.

The second surprising event was that Charlie had called to know when I was coming home from my honeymoon. This forced Carlisle to invent the not-entirely-false lie that I had contracted a strange disease in South America and was currently quarantined somewhere in Switzerland in an international "wellness facility" until further notice.

I didn't like that we were stringing him along like this. But until my fate was a little more secure I couldn't accept anything else.

Eventually we would have to come up with a more concrete excuse for my absence that would give him the closure he needed. Or else he would hunt vigilantly to find me until he unwittingly stumbled upon some fact that lead him to his death. But there was no need to fake a funeral for myself right away if I ended up dying for real in a few weeks, as Edward kept suggesting I would. And if I stayed alive and human, (or even if I became immortal), I kind of wanted to keep in touch.

And the third strange happening was that an unexpected present arrived, addressed to me.

The gift came in a small, ornately carved wooden box with an all-too-familiar golden crest adhered to the top. The box was inlaid on every surface with tasteful gold and ruby accents. And the inside was swathed in a rich red velvet that was soft to the touch, despite its apparent age.

I was already impressed when Esme, having a fair amount of experience working with antiquities, confirmed my suspicions that the box itself was a priceless treasure which would have outshone just about any piece of jewelry.

That is, any piece of jewelry _besides_ the one inside it.

The necklace I found within, in of itself, was rather simple. It consisted of a thick, rope of a chain, and only one jewel hung suspended from that rope. What made it extravagant enough to outdo its container, though, was the fact that the rope was made of woven gold. And said jewel was an enormous white diamond about the size of a golf ball.

I marveled that the Volturi, whose crest was boldly centered on the front of the package, would send me such a ludicrously expensive gift completely out of the blue. And honestly I was a little frightened by their unexpectedly intense interest.

Esme too seemed to echo my fear, until Carlisle explained. He said that Alice had sent them a wedding announcement as a way of showing that I was complying with their desire to see me transformed. An announcement which had stalled them from coming to check on me. This gift, Carlisle further clarified, was their way of communicating that they accepted that I planned to be immortalized soon. In fact, he said that because vampires and humans didn't typically have sex, they probably believed I already had been changed on my "honeymoon." Though they would want concrete proof of that eventually.

I swallowed as recalled that the fact that I _hadn't_ been transformed yet was precisely why I was in the predicament that I was in right now—pregnant and struggling to convince Edward and Emmett that it was okay for me to be as such. For a fleeting second I almost wished that we had done things as we were "supposed to." That Edward had bitten me on Isle Esme instead of made love to me that night.

But as soon as that errant thought crossed my mind I extinguished it. Though we were currently going through an extremely rough patch in our marriage, (glowering at each other and refusing to speak, except to argue), I wouldn't trade our two nights as man and wife for anything. What we had shared then was beautiful, more priceless to me than any ginormous diamond or fancy-shmancy box.

The jewelry box and its contents were not the only items sent, however. They were accompanied by a short note, which Carlisle said was "handwritten by none other than Aro himself".

The entire family (minus its two missing members) seemed to regard the fact that Aro had deigned to pen it, rather than ordered one of his secretaries to do it, as an incredible honor. To my disappointment and bewilderment however, most of the words scribed on the thick, luxurious parchment were meaningless pleasantries regarding my recent nuptials.

 _Why would Aro bother to personally write me something so... empty?_ I mean his words were almost as generic as those you'd find on a Hallmark card.

It was a little strange that his words referred exclusively to me, though. Edward's name was completely missing from the message, despite the fact that the subject matter made that rather difficult to pull off...

But as I read to the end of the congratulatory note, the parting line caught my attention.

 _I very much look forward to meeting the new Mrs. Cullen in person._

It was flawlessly polite on the surface, as all of Aro's words had always been. But to me it sounded like there was an underlying threat in them. I felt clearly warned that if I wasn't the vampire he was expecting the next time we met, the ancient vampire monarch was not going to be generous enough to let me go in peace.

At least that was the only interpretation I could envision which was consistent with Jane's threat in June, when she'd seen me human after our battle with the newborn army. And the only interpretation that was consistent with what Alice had revealed so far of the Volturi's other decisions regarding us.

Carlisle, however, seemed to read something entirely different from those words (he wouldn't say why). Though he did sound quite confident when he stated his belief that if we decided to contact his old friend, he could persuade Aro to overlook my mortality in favor of helping us out. He said that my unchanged intention to be transformed, and the fact that I had only delayed because there had been an unexpected… _detour_ … shall we say, would likely be enough to sway Aro's choice.

But he was still uncertain.

And I was extremely skeptical.

"The Volturi don't give second chances" wasn't a particularly yielding decree. And I wasn't terribly keen on the idea of risking my baby's life when I didn't yet see anything significant to gain from interacting with them yet.

Certainly my pregnancy was progressing quickly. I was growing ten times as fast as I should be, with no sign of slowing down. (Carlisle took my measurements twice daily, once at sunup and once at sundown). And of course it would be ideal to have a better idea of what to expect further down the line. Especially if there were great dangers looming ahead, as everyone seemed to believe there would be.

But on that first day after my return to Forks, I didn't seen any reason to make a risky call for assistance when nothing was really seriously wrong with me. I was very tired from staying up past dawn, which severely disrupted my normal sleep patterns. And my baby's intermittent kicks had started to pinch a bit more than they had in the garage the night before. But none of these symptoms were unusual for a human pregnancy.

It _was_ a little weird that I couldn't hold down any of the gourmet breakfast, lunch or dinner the Cullen's had so graciously provided. Especially since Carlisle said my morning sickness ought to have passed by now, if I was following a normal development pattern, only accelerated.

But I assumed that as a doctor, Carlisle would be perfectly equipped to handle something as mundane as extra queasiness. So I was adamant that we didn't need Aro's help.

On the second day, however, I still wasn't digesting anything properly, despite the slew of anti-nausea meds Carlisle had encouraged me to try. My stomach burned with sharp hunger pangs when it wasn't heaving up its contents. And the lack of nutrition made me feel horribly dizzy.

At the same time, my rapidly maturing son also became strong enough to leave his first mark, an angry purplish bruise on my belly. But still I resisted the idea of imploring for outside aid.

Instead, I insisted that we ought not to worry about it. My clumsy body had proved time and time again that it could certainly handle a few measly bruises. And I still had some body fat left, if all other attempts to nourish my baby failed.

But the incriminating dark spot interrupting my pale flesh was enough to spur another angry lecture from Edward about the foolishness of my choice. And my incurably upset stomach was enough to garner cautionary words about the hazards of the unknown from Carlisle.

When the third day came, Carlisle had suggested an IV to help transmit the nutrients more effectively into my bloodstream. But with my strong compunctions against needles, I'd initially refused to try it.

What eventually made me change my mind however was the horrifying discovery that, according to Carlisle's calculations, in order to sustain my baby's ridiculous growth rate, I needed almost three times as many calories as I would normally would. And in absence of gaining this nutrition from food, the infant had already taken ten pounds off my already slender frame.

After looking at my thinner thighs and slightly sunken cheeks, I realized that an IV might be the only way to get enough energy back into my body to survive. So I agreed to have the doc set it up later that evening.

Unfortunately, though, even the IV didn't work.

At first Carlisle had thought I'd developed gestational diabetes, from the raised unprocessed sugar levels turning up in my bloodwork. But he quickly determined that my insulin levels were normal. And it wasn't just sugar that my body wasn't reacting to properly. Proteins, carbohydrates, fats…. Until they were expelled from my system, _all_ of that just sat there uselessly, not absorbing into my tissues at all, like Carlisle had injected dirt into my veins.

Perplexed by this development, Carlisle had tried to encourage me to look at pictures of food on Rosalie's computer. He figured that my cravings would be the best indicator of what my body needed.

But although the tomato juice I'd seen and the juicy red velvet cake had looked the most delicious among all the other unappealing foods, neither of those things digested properly either. They just weren't quite there taste wise—too sweet. And somehow I knew the texture was all wrong.

During this time, Edward and Emmett continued to research legends day in and day out. They express-shipped all sorts of costly ancient texts to their home and rifled through them with astounding thoroughness to see if they could find any solutions to my worsening health. And while they continued to draw up dead ends… literally, as far as I was concerned, I remained hopeful for the next few days that they would eventually find something useful there.

Without getting the calories I needed from food or the IV, though, I suffered. By the fifth day, I'd lost fifteen pounds. My arms and legs got scarily thin, and my cheekbones had started jutting out of my face. The only part of me that wasn't withering away was my progressively swelling belly, which I could practically feel stretching beneath my fingers.

In addition, my internal temperature dropped two degrees from losing the body fat that typically kept me warm. I felt groggy and fatigued all the time. And consequently spent most of the time passed out on the couch, curled up in hundreds of blankets next to Rosalie.

...At least that is what I did every moment Carlisle and Esme weren't trying to force feed me their new miracle concoction which they insisted I would be able to digest this time. Or when Edward wasn't desperately begging me to reconsider my choice. Or when I wasn't violently puking into the metal bowl provided for me.

Okay so maybe I didn't sleep as well as I would have liked. I strove to get as much rest as I could to conserve on energy for my baby. But many nights, the increasingly panic-stricken immortal family seemed to forget that I required slumber altogether. They would argue in the other room all through the night and well into the morning, completely unaware that their passionate tirades were making it very difficult to get some much needed shut-eye.

My lethargy didn't seem to pass on to my baby, however. He only moved inside me with more frequency, swiftness, and force as time went on. Which Edward took as evidence that he was a monstrous, greedy leech. And despite how exhausted and malnourished I was, my baby continued to grow at the same astonishingly rapid rate he'd started at. He was now almost in the third trimester, and showed no signs of slowing down.

As I trembled in my simultaneously shrinking and enlarging skin, I understood that my infant was probably surviving off of my residual fat stores up to this point. But what was I going to do when they were entirely spent up, I had no idea. If I wasn't able to obtain some reliable source of nourishment, my baby was going to have nothing to live on.

If I starved, he would starve too.

On the sixth day, I was finally in full-blown panic-mode. Every time I ate something, (intravenously or by the mouth, it didn't matter), my baby kicked me hard in the stomach as if to say, "No! Don't feed me that!" It terrified me that nothing was working. It also didn't help that his kicks were much stronger now. They left dark purple bruises all over my belly and filled my whole abdomen with a persistent, festering ache.

Of course Edward misused every one of these injuries as an excuse to try renegotiating my anti-abortion stance. His emotions cycled wildly between every attempt. It was as if he believed that me seeing a different aspect of his grief over watching me sacrifice my health for our child would change my mind.

But with each additional mark my tumultuous angel left me with, I only felt more pity for my baby's condition. He was trapped in a body that was rapidly running out of energy to keep him alive. And at this rate, he was destined to starve long before he would be viable outside the womb.

The blackish stains against my stomach and my ghastly gauntness only made Edward more convinced that the child I was carrying was a monster. But I didn't believe it for a second. And neither did Rosalie. Surely my darling little miracle didn't _want_ to hurt me, his nature simply made it so that he couldn't help it _._

And regardless, I loved my son more than anything in the world. So I was still adamant that I was going to keep him as long as I possibly could, even it was the last thing I did.

Though I desperately hoped that it wouldn't come to that.

...

The next day, which marked a week since I had first felt my baby move, Edward confronted Carlisle once gain.

"You do realize that if she dies… I do too, right?!" Edward hissed at his surrogate father, who was currently administering my daily IV, despite the fact that it was useless.

"I am, unfortunately, quite aware, Edward," Carlisle admitted with an astonishing degree of resignation as he adjusted the tubing flowing into my arm. "But it isn't my choice," he said with a devastated expression, before he finished with the IV.

I tried to place myself in the doctor's shoes. As I thought about it, I realized that both of his options were awful.

If he followed through with Edward's wishes, I would live. But he would loose his grandchild. And I would hate both of them forever with a fury that knew no bounds.

But if he followed through with _my_ wishes, the baby and I would probably die—unless we found a way to get food to stay in my system. And my death, (since Edward refused to live without me) would cause Carlisle to lose two people he loved in one fell swoop of misery.

Either way, though, Carlisle would loose relationships that were dear to him.

My heart burned for him, like a poisonous knife had been twisted inside it.

The only way there could ever be a happy ending, it seemed, was if I somehow miraculously survived this supernatural pregnancy. And in order to do that, we needed more to go on than a few murky ancient legends scrounged up on the internet. Edward and Emmett (and Jasper, before he vanished) might have tried their hardest to research what was happening to me, but they were limited in their scope.

Compared to the vast and terrifying world around them, they were young. And because Emmett and Edward weren't willing to leave the house, they were confined to knowledge that could be found on the Internet, or in books that could be shipped to the North American continent. Crippled in this way, they would need decades to hunt the earth for answers.

But I didn't have decades.

If my baby continued to grow at the breakneck pace it had established—gobbling up my body's calories very fast—and my stomach continued to reject everything I offered it, Carlisle predicted my heart would fail by next Wednesday. He'd tried everything he knew to do to treat starvation. He'd even experimented with a few new practices recommended by the world's leading specialists in treating hunger. But it was all to no avail.

Without further direction, I would perish almost exactly two weeks after my return from Isle Esme. So if my baby and I were going to live, we were going to need someone with experience dealing with this sort of thing to guide us to appropriate solutions. Someone to show us what would help me gain back my energy and stay viable through the later stages.

They would obviously need to be a vampire, given the peculiar origins of my child. But that alone, given the Cullens' reaction, was not enough. They would probably also need to be well versed in modern science and physiology. But most importantly they needed to be extremely old—the oldest person we could possibly find—and have traveled to every single corner of the world a hundred times over, so that they had ample opportunity to come across this phenomena somewhere else.

And I only knew one such person who might be willing to help.

Carlisle was right. Aro was our only chance.

His access to Carlisle's thoughts would give him all the medical expertise he needed. And if he knew anything about hybrid pregnancies like this and agreed to offer his aid, I might be able to mend my relationship with Edward and get to keep my baby.

At least that was my optimistic dream.

But if contacting him ended up spelling my death instead of my survival, then it wasn't really a loss. It appeared I was going to die anyway, one way or the other. Either I would wither away, straining to keep my heart beating as long as possible but ultimately failing. Or Aro would have me destroyed because I was a threat. The option Edward continually pressed upon me—that of living on as a human without my child was completely unacceptable to me. Either we both lived or we both died, there would be no separation.

That was my decision and I was sticking with it.

I loved my son too much to give him anything short of the best opportunity.

But because I knew that my primary caretaker would not be thrilled with the idea of the Volturi stopping in for a house call, I waited until later that night, when Rosalie had left the house with Esme to hunt, to explain my thoughts to Carlisle.

"Carlisle?" I croaked as he sat beside me on the couch.

For the last hour he had been trying to avoid inadvertently touching the huge mound of blankets I was smothered in, for fear of accidentally sapping away some of the much needed heat I was trying to keep in there. And now he was absently flicking through the channels on his enormous flat screen television, searching for something appropriately stimulating, but not too stressful to put on.

"Do you need anything Bella?" the doctor asked. He suddenly straightened in his seat and set the remote carefully atop the glass coffee table in front of us, to let me know that I had his undivided attention. Ignoring the blurry characters babbling incoherently to one another on the screen, he looked me directly in the eyes.

I gnawed on my lower lip for a minute before I finally worked up the courage to ask him the question that had burning on the tip of my tongue almost all day. "Could you… contact Aro? See if he knows anything about this?"

I ran my hands nervously through my limp, lackluster hair. I felt abashed that I was reversing my decision to avoid confronting him when I'd been so obstinate about it earlier.

"We're running out of time…" I added with a small cough, to help illustrate why I had changed my mind.

If we didn't do something soon, all of my worries about confronting the daunting, aristocratic figure while I was still human would be moot anyway. Because I would already be dead.

In a flash, Carlisle had shut off the TV, his expression suddenly gravely serious. "Are you sure that is what you want, Bella? Once he knows… we can't take that back…"

Carlisle didn't bother to specify what might happen as a result. But I knew perfectly well the risks he was alluding to.

And I was prepared to face them.

"I know," I said simply.

But those words carried a lot of weight, causing Carlisle's solemn face to contort into one which was was torn with indecision. He wasn't sure if he should try to dissuade me or encourage me.

I decided to help him out.

"If we don't contact Aro, my baby won't have anything to eat, Carlisle," I offered in favor of the idea. Tears streamed abundantly down my chin as I thought of my poor baby, suffering in the place that ought to be the safest, warmest, most wonderful place in the world. "He must be so hungry…"

The emotion in my voice as I described feeling just how famished my child was, finally wore Carlisle down.

"Very well," he sighed at length, running a nervous hand through his immaculate wavy blonde hair.

Somehow he managed to muss it in a way that looked even more perfect than it had before when it was all slicked and straight. Now it was gently tousled in a way that was slightly wild, and _very_ sexy. I certainly understood why the doctor never wore it like that at work—the weak-hearted nurses could hardly take it as it was.

"I will call him," Carlisle confirmed, jarring me from my wacky, hormonal thoughts. "Would you prefer me to do that now?"

Immediately I nodded. Though the motion was stiff, and my pencil-thin neck strained to perform the action. "Yes… if that's alright," I specified, just in case the Volturi had certain times of the day they didn't want to be disturbed.

Then the implications of his words sunk in and conflicted with the picture of I'd conjured in my head of Carlisle greeting the man in person. "Wait… call?" I asked.

I struggled to imagine Aro sitting in his elaborate wooden throne, holding one of those old rotary phones with the long spirally chords and talking into it while he knitted cat sweaters like every other old person I knew. But the image just wasn't right—even without the knitting. Despite his actual age, the regal, imposing vampire I had met for the first time this March, was nothing like the elderly folks at Forks' local rest home. I almost laughed for even attempting to compare the two.

And yet, at the same time, I couldn't imagine him like the other twenty-somethings who shared his apparent age. The idea of him operating modern technology with extreme ease just didn't fit. The tunnels of sewers Jane had led Edward and I through during our last visit to the Volturi headquarters didn't even have electricity, except for in the receptionist's office. Let alone anything as technologically advanced as a phone.

"Aro may be ancient, but he knows how to operate a telephone," Carlisle explained upon seeing my bewildered look. "Instantaneous communication comes in handy when you're running an international organization," he added, emphasizing that although his friend was eccentric, Aro was pragmatic enough to use every available tool to his advantage. "Caius despises anything electrical. But Aro is nothing if not willing to adapt when better instruments present themselves."

I nodded numbly, not really wanting to dwell on what "better instruments" Carlisle might be referring to. Because I knew from the way that he had said it, that he meant people as well as things—people like Alice and Edward whose gifts would be of great use to him.

But I was spared from commenting on that uncomfortable truth as a loud bang sounded upstairs—the angry slam of a door we soon discovered. Then, Edward, who seemed to have heard our conversation from upstairs came storming down at once.

I was not exactly grateful for this fact. My husband, (or his fiendish doppelganger, whichever this was), was positively livid. He raced down the steps and bolted into the living room with a lethal energy that made fear rocket through my veins, and made my baby squirm.

When Edward finally lurched to a stop, his eyes burned with a fierce light. And he looked like he wanted to chew Carlisle's head off.

Mercifully, he did nothing of the sort. Instead he merely leveled a murderous glare in the elder vampire's direction for a few tense moments before he acidly demanded, "You're going to call Aro?"

I was surprised that Carlisle didn't even flinch any more when he was addressed this way. He'd become accustomed to Edward's caustic treatment lately, as everyone else had.

Everyone else, that is, except me. I still shuddered every single time.

"Bella is hopeful that he can assist us," Carlisle began in a soft, cool voice, trying to lull Edward into losing the savage, frenzied air about him. "Edward, it's our only chance—you see that her health is deteriorating…"

"Not our _only_ chance," Edward said bitterly.

I automatically stiffened and wrapped my arms protectively over the basketball-sized bump protruding from my stomach. Then I shook my head vigorously back and forth. I didn't care that the action made me extremely dizzy—Edward need to know that I wasn't going to budge on this.

"That's not an option," I boldly declared. "Either we both live or we both die. I won't live without him."

"You're throwing your life away… No… you're throwing _us_ away for this… this… _parasite_?" He bit out incredulously. Then his face twisted into an expression of deep pain. "Whatever happened to our wedding vows?"

 _What indeed,_ I wondered myself. _Did "for better or for worse" not ring a bell?_

"Edward, I will still love you as long as we both shall live," I reminded him. Though for some reason the words felt sour on my tongue, wrong somehow. "...Until the very end—until I cease existing—I will love you with all of my heart," I promised him.

But again I couldn't completely expel the rotten feeling in my stomach that told me I was lying to him.

It was probably just gas, I tried to reason with myself.

And thankfully Edward took my words at face value. Though he wasn't all that impressed regardless.

"No, Bella. That's not love," came his dismissive reply, ground out between clenched teeth. "If you really loved me, you wouldn't be prizing the existence of that _monster_ inside you as worth more than our marriage!"

He snarled out the word "monster" with such acidity that I worried the baby would melt under his verbal assault. I hugged my stomach tighter in defense, even as the ambient stress caused my baby to begin kicking injuriously against my hands.

"Obviously you've made your choice."

My eyes widened to the size of saucers at his last words.

Horrifically, it seemed that in Edward's mind, there was only room for _one_ supernatural love in my heart.

Suddenly I felt very relieved that Jacob was nowhere to be found at this moment. Although I knew a romantic relationship between us would never work out as long as Edward was in the equation, he still held a piece of me. And it would utterly destroy me if anyone were to cause his death prematurely.

Edward knew this, and so even though the wolf greatly frustrated him, he did't murder the hypotenuse of our wacky love triangle. Because it would upset me beyond the capacity to function properly. And although during these last six days I had tried to make a case that our son was exactly the same—that I _needed_ him to survive like I needed air to breathe—Edward could never believe it. Not when our little miracle baby was also steadily sucking the life out of me.

Nor could he understand that I could be an equally passionate martyr for _two_ causes at once. He believed that one had to take precedence over the other. So of course he moved to the only alternative he could imagine. That somehow my willing-to-die-for-him love had been transferred to the infant, leaving Edward subordinated into an awkward position of lesser love like my confusing feelings for Jacob.

As I comprehended this I shouted, affronted by his misperception. "It's not like that at all!"

Edward had it all wrong. I loved him and the baby both the same.

At least... I had when our little miracle first been introduced into my life.

Though maybe he was partially right. I was finding it harder and harder to honestly say that I loved Edward when he was behaving like an animal...

"Then what is it?" Edward demanded, cutting through my train of thought before it was fully formed. "Tell me how this… this _aberration_ fits into our _happily ever after_ , hmm?" He spit out the fairytale words I'd once ascribed to us during our honeymoon with a scornful sneer. "Are you expecting me to raise it like my own kin after it _uses its teeth to carve its way out of your uterus_ and leaves you to die?" he said chillingly in reference to one of the more gruesome legends he and Emmett had come across. A legend that vividly described what might happen to me at the end of this hybrid pregnancy.

"Or am I to sit back and feel all stuffy with fatherly pride as it wreaks havoc on the city of Forks?" he demanded, scoffing at the horrifying idea—one that was never mine to begin with. "What about when it kills your father...?"

I gasped in terror and disbelief. _My little boy would never do such a thing!_ I inwardly screamed, indignant that it had even been suggested.

"…which it would do on accident of course, just out of curiosity." Edward continued. "Babies stick everything in their mouths after all…"

I didn't want to hear this. "Shut up! He won't be anything like that!"

 _Why did Edward have to fill my head with all these appalling descriptions of some miniature killing machine?_ Sure my son was already supernaturally strong, and gave me a decently hard kick every so often. But I always imagined the beautiful green-eyed boy as a much more docile being than Edward did. Couldn't Edward think the same way, just for once?

"Carlisle will train him to be good. We'll be careful. And we will move if we have to," I quickly assured him. I glanced fleetingly over at Carlisle for support, earning a clipped nod from the distraught man. "It's inevitable that we're going to do that anyway."

"Before or after it murders someone I care about?"

"Edward!"

"What? I'm just saying out loud what everyone around here is too chicken to tell you. You have two options," he declared, holding up two stony white fingers in front of my face. "Take that _thing_ out of you and live like a sensible woman," he said, pointing to the first of his digits with what almost counted as a smile on his face. His features rapidly darkened as he moved to the second finger. "Or keep holding on to it and die pointlessly and alone."

I blinked in stupefaction. "Alone?"

 _Surely he would be with me, wouldn't he? He'd be waiting to strangle Carlisle when I breathed my last, right?_

"If you don't agree to have an abortion tonight, I'm leaving," Edward suddenly announced.

He delivered the statement with a firmness I'd only heard one other time in my life—when Edward had said "I do". So I knew he was being completely serious despite how preposterous his words were.

"I'm not going to stick around for another week just to watch you die."

"But Edward…" I faltered, trying and failing to come up with suitable reason for him to say.

I twisted the heavy diamond ring that hung loosely on my bony finger anxiously in the silence that followed. _This couldn't be happening. He promised never to leave me again until I ordered him away! He can't rescind that promise now!_

But the determinate and dead look I saw in his darkening eyes told me that he could. That right now, he was doing _precisely_ that.

I tried to speak. To say anything that might remind him of how adamant he had been before that he would never abandon me again, even if it was for my own good. But my throat was too tight, constricted with betrayal to say a single word.

After a palpable silence, Edward unexpectedly rotated his head towards the man still sitting protectively at my side with an inquisitive expression. "Carlisle?"

I gulped as I registered the meaning behind the look Edward was giving his surrogate father. He was trying to assess whether the man would budge on his no-unwilling-abortions edict now that it was all-but-proven that this baby would kill me.

Again I struggled to squeak out a protest of some sort, especially as I saw something dark flicker in Carlisle's eyes that terrified me. But my lips were completely frozen in shock. I was paralyzed by the pain of being rejected by one of the people I had loved more than life itself.

"My decision remains firm. I will not force her, nor will I allow you to do so," Carlisle told him after a while.

I audibly sighed with relief as I heard his words.

Carlisle slipped off of the couch and moved to stand as a living (well, sort of, anyway) shield between Edward and me. "You're not licensed to perform that kind of delicate procedure," the doctor coldly reminded his son. "Not to mention that I fear that much blood may prove too much for you to handle. If you tried, you would probably end up killing her, one way or another,"

I cringed as I imagined the scene Carlisle had illustrated for me. In my mind's eyes I saw Edward hacking through my flesh viciously with crude imprecision, stabbing more than slicing. In the vision he mutilated my body until my intoxicating scent overwhelmed him and he lunged to mortally bite into my throat. Or until he accidentally cut into a vital organ in his sloppiness.

 _Was Edward's hatred of the tiny life growing inside me really that extreme that he would take such desperate measures?_ I pondered, absolutely petrified by the thought. _If I died under his brutal hands, would he feel any shred of remorse for instigating my passing? Or would he justify it in the name of "doing all that he could to save me"?_

I shivered when I realized that I couldn't definitively say no to the latter.

"And you?" Edward snarled distastefully at me.

The sound jolted me from the violent imagery before my eyes—the imagery that had made my skin go whiter than a sheet, and honestly made me want to faint. _So much blood…_ I thought woozily. _Too much._

"He stays right here." I pointing to my blanket-shrouded belly, before I steadfastly crossed my arms over my chest to punctuate my statement. "At least until he grows big enough to safely be delivered."

Edward scoffed, then muttered chillily under his breath, "Delivered, my ass," jarring me with his uncharacteristically profane speech, before he addressed me directly. "Well if that is your choice, then I'm leaving and I won't be coming back."

Carlisle caught his son by the shoulder just as he was storming off towards one of the large, exterior windows. "Edward, please at least take your phone with you…" he kindly requested.

The doctor held out a small silver flip phone in his palm for Edward to take. The seething russet-haired vampire simply stared down at it like it was a particularly stinky gym sock.

"…So I can keep you updated on any developments?" Carlisle encouraged, pressing the device into his son's reluctant hands. "If Bella does survive, thanks to Aro's assistance, certainly you will want to return?"

My face brightened at Carlisle's insinuation that I might live past this taxing ordeal. The doctor's optimism, even in paltry measure like this, was definitely a good sign.

But Edward had the opposite reaction. As soon as Carlisle had drawn languidly back from the tiny machine he'd pushed into Edward's possession, Edward furiously crushed it in his fist. The plastic, wires and motherboard cracked noisily and fell from Edward's fingers to the floor in powdery bits.

Carlisle's eyebrows shot into his hairline at the destructive display, but otherwise he remained frozen in place. His whole form was statuesque in shock at Edward's violent denial to stay in touch—as well as his violent denial of the idea that I might live.

"She won't," Edward said soullessly, like my death was already a one-hundred-percent given.

He cast his eyes in my direction to take one last shrewd assessment of my sickly person. He sneered in distaste as he watched me shiver—having only skin and bones to keep me warm—for a moment. And then he resumed his single-minded progress towards the window on the other side of the room.

Neither Carlisle nor I moved an inch as he stomped over to it. Nor when he threw it hastily open. Nor when he leaped up onto the sill. We were still immobilized in uncomprehending shock.

So we were completely unprepared to respond when he frostily delivered his farewell speech.

"Goodbye Bella," he said, as if he was already talking to my corpse, dressed in white and lying motionless in my casket. "I wish our time together had not been so brief…" he went on, sickening me with the way the words sounded all-together too much like a eulogy. "But alas, even true love must cease it seems. I thought we would have many decades together. But it seems I was mistaken," he added, his voice dripping with tangible anger and… was that _sarcasm_?

"I hope you enjoy heaven without me," Edward finished, suddenly speaking to me directly again.

And then, Edward jumped off the thick wooden window sill into the bleak, moonless night beyond.

As his stony form disappeared from sight, I desperately called after him, "Edward wait!"

But he was already gone.

…

I cried for hours after he left, just like I had the first time when he'd abandoned me in the forest last fall. But this time, once Rosalie and Esme returned from their hunt, I had at least three of the Cullens to help comfort me through the loss, whereas last time I hadn't had anyone.

Rosalie was the most helpful, offering me her soft embrace and an immaculate shoulder to cry on. But Carlisle and Esme were also surprisingly supportive, despite the fact that my only tie to them was through their son. Both of them clearly articulated that regardless of what Edward decided to do next, that they would continue to care for and love me like their own daughter—my husband's sudden disappearance wouldn't change that.

Emmett tried to follow Edward's movements for a few hours, so that he could at least get an idea of where my husband was planning to go. But at the end of the night he came back empty handed—he'd lost Edward at the Canadian border.

Knowing of only one friendly coven in that direction, Carlisle wondered if Edward might have ran to stay with the Denali clan as he had after we had first met in biology. Though a quick phone call revealed that their residence wasn't his ultimate destination.

Just like Alice and Jasper, we had no idea where he had went.

And while that meant that all the Cullens who possessed supernatural powers were hidden somewhere in the world which Aro couldn't glean from any of our minds, keeping them safe from his acquisitive tendencies, it wasn't very comforting that my decision to keep the baby was slowly clearing the family out of the house one by one. Because it made me worry that Edward's words would come true. That after a few more days the others would abandon me too and I would die pointlessly and alone.

 _Why, baby?_ I asked the kicker resting in my protruding belly, as if he knew the secret reason why everything this last week had gone horribly, terribly wrong. _Why is everyone leaving me? Alice was my friend and…_ _ **he**_ _is my husband…_ I felt like _that_ , at least, should have meant something. _You're family too—but why is your introduction into my life ripping this family apart?_

But my adorable little boy didn't answer. He just kicked me in the stomach again— _hard_ —causing me to double over in pain and cry out in agony.

Watching me crumple under the pile blankets I now lived in and scream, Esme immediately darted over to where I lay, resting a cool hand on my freezing forehead for a moment before she drew back, "Bella! Bella are you okay?!"

"OW! Nnnngh!" I moaned as a little foot stabbed into my middle. Another, angry dark blue bruise was added to my burgeoning collection right bellow my belly button. I hissed as the pain subsided into a throbbing ache.

Carlisle, who was just returning from his office with a clip board and measuring tape to take my second measurement of the day, dropped everything as soon as he saw me bent over on the couch. He dashed in beside his wife.

"Bella is there anything that I can…" Carlisle started to ask before I sharply cut him off.

"Call Aro! Call Aro now!"


	4. Chapter 4: The Call

**AN: And now the long-awaited call! *rubs hands together schemingly* ;)**

 **Fun Fact: A woman in her second trimester (which is where Bella is already!) needs an average of 340 extra healthy calories a day to sustain her pregnancy. Figuring that her baby is growing really fast... (I've calculated about ten-times as fast) but still needs the same amount of energy in order to grow, Bella is going to need 3,400 extra calories, a day! Holy cow! Of course Bella also needs to feed herself a normal 2000 calorie diet on top of this to maintain her weight... but if she isn't digesting anything she eats, every pound she needs to eat will be lost from her own body. Most sources say that 3,500 calories is roughly equal to a pound of fat, and when her daily requirements all add up, it means that she's going to drop 1.9 pounds every day! Yikes!**

 **The math I've done is a little rough, but at this rate, Bella, who is 5' 4" and probably somewhere in the healthy bmi range of 108-135 pounds (I used 120 as my base number because she is pretty skinny both in the books and the movies) has already reached 100 and will reach 80 in another week. Now most adult women I've read about who die of malnutrition don't do so until they shrink down to around 50 pounds, but considering that the baby is going to prioritize it's growth over the mother... when human babies usually miscarry to save the mother... I'm setting her lethal weight a little higher.**

 **Regardless... Um... I hope it's clear we have a problem...**

* * *

...

 _I will not be ashamed to say "I know not,"_

 _nor will I fail to call in my colleagues_

 _when the skills of another are needed for a patient's recovery._

 _\- Modern Version of the Hippocratic Oath_

...

CHAPTER FOUR: THE CALL

Despite Rosalie's unexplained protests that involving Aro was a terrible idea, Carlisle wasted no time in complying with my request. He vanished into the kitchen in an pale blur before he returned with a cordless phone in hand.

As he set it upright in its charging stand on the coffee table, and cleared the area around it to ensure there wouldn't be any interference, I was confused by his decision. Confused that he'd placed it on the table, rather than up to his ear.

I remained perplexed as Esme called Emmett in from the other room. And my eyebrows furrowed deeper in bewilderment as the burly vampire settled eagerly onto the couch ninety-degrees from mine. But as I watched Emmett stare intently at the device resting atop the shiny glass in front of us. And saw Carlisle press the button to put the audio on speakerphone, his choice suddenly made sense.

With how risky this call was, none of us would want to miss a single word on either side of the conversation. If our worst fears came true, and Aro decided that my child was too dangerous to be brought into this world, we would all need to know this devastating fact at the same instant. That way we could have as much time to plan our next move as possible before the extermination party arrived.

But I was crossing my fingers, hoping we would be luckier than that.

With bated breath, I waited as Carlisle punched in the number. He pressed the correct sequence of buttons with surprising speed and ease, as though it was a number he called often, before relinquishing his hand.

I cradled my baby protectively as we listened to the phone begin dialing. Each shrill ring we heard coming from the other end only increased my anxiety about the inevitable conversation.

And the tension of the situation combined with the repetitive noise reminded me of another encounter with the Volturi. The rings were like the thunderous tolling of the clock tower in Volterra as I had rushed to save Edward from stepping suicidally out into the sunlight. Each reverberating sound, both then, and now, was a pronouncement that I was moments away from being too late.

But this time it was _my_ life, and the life of my baby, that were on the line, rather than Edward's. And although there was no guaranteed threat waiting for me at the end of the phone rings, my fear couldn't help but grow as they wore on.

Three… four… five… six…

There was the last one.

With a puzzled expression, Carlisle was just about to give up and try calling again. Then someone one on the other end picked up at the very last second.

"Who is this?" the feathery voice I recognized all-too-well on the other end demanded. It sounded frazzled, hurried—like he had rushed from the other side of the building to answer—and a bit scared for some reason. Which was a bit odd, considering who it belonged to.

"How did you get this number?"

"Hello Aro, this is Carlisle," Carlisle responded smoothly. He seemed totally unfazed by his friend's uncharacteristic panic attack.

 _Maybe this was a normal reaction for the ancient vampire when he was contacted over the phone._ I figured that his unfamiliarity with most modern technology ought to explain his uncomposed behavior.

There was a short pause while Aro seemed to process these words before a bright, melodious voice burst over the wire. "Oh Carlisle how wonderful of you to call!" he exclaimed, immediately switching his tone of voice from one of frenetic anxiety to one full of warmth.

I took that to mean that the two were on far better terms with one another than I had thought.

"I do so very much look forward to our little talks," Aro went on. His voice was musical and soft, but brimming with an undisguised excitement that made me prickle a bit.

"I had worried because of the way our last conversation ended that I had offended you to the point that you never wished to speak with me again..." Aro's tone grew heavy with extreme solemnity, as though losing his companionship with Carlisle would be a great loss, before it rapidly warmed again. "Whatever might have inspired this unexpected treat?"

"I am afraid I haven't called for social reasons," Carlisle explained, his lips tight as he spoke towards the phone resting on the coffee table. As though Aro _had_ offended him a bit last time.

Suddenly I wondered what Aro had said to disturb Carlisle so much. Perhaps the doctor was simply, rather understandably upset with how the Volturi had behaved toward the peaceful Cullen clan during their last two encounters. Threatening the life of his son's reason for existence. And refusing to put an end to Victoria's newborn army before they attacked us, among other things.

We'd been treated rather unjustly in my opinion.

But Carlisle didn't vocalize the particular reason for his hurt feelings, however, and simply continued. "There is a rather grave matter I would like to discuss with you. Is this a good line? Are you in a secure area?"

 _A secure area?_ Carlisle's words sounded like something out of a spy movie. Where one had to determine that the other wasn't in a place where their information might be leaked. And at first the idea that the two were special agents who had some kind of top secret information they needed to discuss away from the government's prying eyes seemed laughable.

Until I suddenly remembered that they _did_ have top-secret information, namely the existence of vampires, that they wouldn't want broadcasted to the world.

"Oh my," Aro breathed. He sounded a little disappointed that Carlisle wasn't calling for a lighthearted chit-chat, but also entirely understanding that the situation was serious. "Just a moment, if you would please."

Carlisle's response was immediate. "Of course."

A few minutes passed, during which I assumed Aro was swiftly moving to a place where he would not be overheard. At least, that made the most sense, judging by the sound of harshly whipping air that we heard crackling out of the speaker. The slam of a thick, heavy door. And the cold snap of an iron lock.

It wasn't really until I heard those sounds that I understood how seriously Aro worked to prevent the world at large from knowing about vampires.

The deadbolt and soundproof room was a little extreme in my opinion. But it would definitely ensure that no one else, especially no one human, would hear something they ought not to.

But then I wondered, _Could the NSA tap his phone? Or was he somehow exempt from things like that?_

I didn't get a chance to ask Carlisle this question however, because as soon as I found the words to ask, there was a staticky pop. And suddenly Aro's voice returned, smooth and chocolaty as ever.

"All better," Aro said with a slight sigh as he came back on the line. "You may speak freely now, Carlisle. What troubles you?"

Carlisle pursed his lips uncertainly for a second—this was the big moment—before he started elucidating our predicament as delicately as possible. "It's rather difficult to explain, I'm afraid, but it concerns Bella, surely you recall…"

"Of course I remember delightful young Bella!" he sang.

I was jolted with how exuberant his voice abruptly sounded, like he was genuinely thrilled just to hear my name. The intensity of his interest in me now frightened me because it felt totally unfounded. W _hat on earth could I possibly provide for him? I was just a liability, right?_

Carlisle frowned a little as he heard Aro's euphoric praise, but said nothing.

Aro continued. "Though I noticed the wedding announcement you sent..." the enthusiasm in his voice rapidly waned as he mentioned the card Alice had delivered. As though its contents were particularly upsetting for some reason, "...referred to her as _Isabella._ " He purred out every syllable in a beautiful, sensual Italian accent that made me shiver.

"It is such a shame that she does not use her full name more often. I find it simply _lovely_ ," he offered by way of explanation for his earlier shift into moroseness.

I got the impression from Aro's words that my unwillingness to use all the syllables in my name wasn't his primary complaint with the letter he'd received. But rather a clever cover for what really troubled him.

Carlisle noticed it too, and since he knew the elder vampire better than I did, he seemed to know why. I could see the comprehension in his eyes—as well as in Esme's. But neither of them decided to explain to me why Aro was actually rather put out by the card Alice had sent. The one they'd used to covertly assure him that my change was imminent.

 _Wasn't my immortality what he wanted?_ I thought, confused by Aro's nonsensical response. _Why should the announcement disappoint him then?_

"If you do not mind my asking... how is she?" Aro abruptly asked in a startlingly cheery tone. It was a drastic and rapid shift from his earlier sulkiness.

Before Carlisle (who looked like he _did_ mind) could answer, Aro rushed on.

"I never did understand how you manage to impose your peculiar lifestyle on newborns. The thirst is so _overwhelming_ at that point in their development." He sounded completely baffled by the idea of a recently changed vampire resisting their instincts that way. As though such a thing ought to be nigh impossible to do.

"I could barely bring myself to stop feeding _at all_ during my first year..." Aro revealed unexpectedly, "...let alone choose to dine on animals…"

I bristled at his casual mention of human slaughter, like he was discussing table settings or something.

 _So Aro thought I was already transformed. Well that might make this a little more complicated._

"Ah, those were interesting times," Aro sighed nostalgically. "The piercing fire in the throat... the unbelievable pleasure when it was sated... Oh and that _exquisite_ metallic flavor..."

Aro's candid description of the wonderful taste of human blood made me simultaneously shudder and salivate for some unknown reason.

But Carlisle cut him off mid-sentence, which seemed to be the only way to get in a word edgewise with this man while he was rapturously ranting. "She hasn't been transformed," he announced. "Yet."

Aro gasped, probably just as surprised that we were telling him, of all people, this sensitive fact as he was by the fact itself.

"Stalling are we? Tsk, tsk, Carlisle," he said almost playfully.

To me it almost sounded as if he was teasing the doctor for this choice. Or like he was chiding a child for their rudimentary attempts at manipulation. Either way, Aro was not reacting with anywhere near the level of malevolence I'd been expecting.

"Whatever for?" Aro immediately asked next, somehow managing to sound genuinely curious and bewildered at the same time.

But I was just glad he didn't sound murderous. I felt fairly assured, judging from his tone of voice, that he wouldn't demand my death any time soon. At least not for simply being human, all earlier threats aside.

"Unless I am mistaken, Isabella and young Edward were married only a few weeks ago…" Aro noted a bit sourly.

I cringed at the sound of my absent husband's name. Especially the way he had said it like he harbored a deep dislike of the younger telepath for some reason.

"Surely they do not wish to remain abstinent too much longer…"

I blushed at Aro's bitter allusion to marital relations. I was in the process of opening my mouth to explain when Carlisle beat me to it.

"They haven't," he said simply, coldly. Then he waited with nervously twiddling hands for the words to sink in.

"Pardon?" Aro sounded incredulous. But mostly in the sense that he didn't believe he had heard Carlisle right.

Carlisle patiently rephrased his statement, clarifying in as explicit terms as he dared this time, so there could be no mistake in his meaning. "Edward and Bella have already consummated their marriage."

"Oh." Aro sounded utterly deflated. Like the knowledge that Edward and I were no longer virgins was the worst news he'd heard all year. Maybe even in the last thousand years.

And then after a second, what the vegetarian vampire was actually telling him with those words finally started to sink in.

"Surely you cannot mean… while she was still human?" Aro was beyond unbelieving now—his voice was flabbergasted, and frantic, like the idea of me sleeping with Edward under those circumstances terrified him.

"That is exactly what I am saying Aro," Carlisle confirmed.

"Oh the poor girl," Aro mourned. He sounded deeply anguished, like someone had just carved a huge hole in his chest.

Then his wildly oscillating moods shifted again, and he snarled venomously. "How foolish of him to do such a thing!" He tried valiantly to keep his voice neutral, but it came out strangled and furious.

And I instantly knew that Edward had been anywhere near the man at this moment, Aro would have wasted no time tearing his head from his shoulders. And his arms from their sockets. And vindictively setting the pieces on fire.

But his livid reaction baffled me. _Why would Aro care that I had given myself to Edward?_ _Did he know that Edward would impregnate me? Did he know what my baby would become and was furious with Edward for co-creating such an abomination? Had the safety of the vampire world already been jeopardized as a result?_ _Or was there another reason?_

"He was rather attached to her," Aro lamented.

I was stunned with his usage of the past-tense. And the way his abruptly dull, empty voice seemed to say that he mirrored Edward's feelings. I had no idea that he cared so much about me in a way that sounded personal, rather than relational to his immortal friends. Or why he suddenly seemed to think I had kicked the bucket already.

"Extremely so. Whatever will he do now?" Aro asked Carlisle. He sounded just as devastated as he imagined my husband to be. And his tone almost seemed to ask instead, _What will_ _ **I**_ _do now?_

Carlisle's lips turned down into a deep frown as he processed Aro's assumption that I had died in bed with Edward. "Bella isn't dead, Aro," Carlisle told him definitively. "She lives. She's right here."

Carlisle gestured towards me as he talked, indicating without prior warning that he wished me to speak.

I silently panicked for a moment before I quickly cleared my throat. "Um… H-hello Aro," I croaked inelegantly, not knowing what else to say. I figured a simple greeting was safe.

"Bella?" Aro's voice brightened, taking back its mesmerizing dimensional qualities. Like my voice had resuscitated the life back into it. "Is that truly you?" he probed, sounding peculiarly desperate for an affirmative response.

I nodded before I remembered that he couldn't see me. "Y-yeah, it is," I coughed, rubbing my dry throat as it burned slightly afterwards.

"But how? Modern medicine is certainly marvelous, but you must be in incredible pain…" He sounded extremely worried now, like a doting parent whose child had just had open-heart surgery and hadn't quite re-stabilized. "Why on earth have you not been transformed yet?!"

This time he _was_ mad, like I had expected him to be before. But he was only mad at Carlisle. It seemed Aro believed that I was in tremendous agony that the Cullen patriarch ought to have remedied by now. There was no ire directed at me for still being human.

I blinked, feeling a bit dazed by all the emotional turmoil radiating from the man on the other side of the line. I had forgotten how rapidly Aro cycled through different feelings and how disorienting his chaotic trains of thought were.

"You misunderstand again, Aro," Carlisle stated coolly in my stead before I took back over.

"Edward didn't hurt me on my honeymoon..." I strained to say. My throat felt rough and cottony in its extreme dehydration. "Not physically at least," I felt compelled to add, since he had hurt me terribly emotionally just a few hours ago. "I escaped both times with only a few bruises…"

This astonished Aro even more. "No broken bones? No crushed organs?" he demanded with a bizarre frenzied tone in his voice, like the notion of me being injured at all was rapidly driving him crazy. "Nothing… _internal_ damaged?" he uneasily pursued.

I knew at once that he wanted to know if Edward's… sword had wounded the sheath… shall we say, without actually asking the indelicate question outright—a fact for which I was extremely grateful.

"Not at all," I choked out.

I blushed tomato-red all over again as I recalled the precise sensation that had accompanied the movements on Edward's part that Aro was so worried about. No it hadn't hurt to have him touch me _there_ —quite the opposite.

"You mean to tell me that Edward indulged this foolhardy fantasy of his _twice_ and you are not worse off because of it?" Aro sounded like the notion was utterly inconceivable.

I didn't like the distasteful way Aro said "fantasy" like it was a euphemism for something much worse. Like pedophilia or bestiality. Though I wasn't quite sure how I felt about my husband at the moment. And in my virginal naivety I had no real idea what constituted socially acceptable vampire sexual behavior. I hated the insinuation that our physical expressions of love had somehow been corrupt because I had still been mortal at the time.

Our sexual encounters had been very consensual. And (aside from the fact that Edward was a vampire) extraordinarily vanilla. I couldn't fathom anyone labeling what we shared as _wrong._ But of course Aro hadn't exactly been invited to witness... (thank goodness). So I suppose I could understand his reservations.

"Yes," I agreed with the factual portion of his statement, though not the underlying assumptions. "The reason I sound like this," I coughed demonstratively, "Is… _related,_ but not because he hurt me in the… er… _act_."

Oh god this was so awkward.

It didn't help that Emmett was now snickering quietly in the background—he always did love innuendos. And this right here—me, the red-faced newlywed, talking to the leader of the Volturi about sex—was comedy gold.

If the situation weren't so dire, I might have laughed with him about it. But right now I was just incensed— _this isn't funny! I could die!_

"My, you do sound dreadful, dear," Aro murmured with great concern in his voice. He was oblivious to, or simply chose to ignore Emmett's soft chuckles, being much too worried with whatever was making me sound so sick. "Whatever is wrong with you then?" he queried, puzzled.

I could tell that since his initial assumption was totally off base, Aro was confused that we'd bothered to call. If I had merely caught a human illness, there was no need to let _him_ know. So whatever was hurting me now had to be supernatural in origin for us to be asking for his help.

"I confess I must marvel at your fortitude," he unexpectedly interjected, going back to the previous topic for a moment. His voice was awestruck, as though my ability to not get killed in bed with Edward was a superpower all in and of itself. "You survived quite an ordeal."

Emmett mouthed "is that what they're calling it these days?" towards Rosalie. But she did not look amused. She gave him a glare that looked like it could have burnt a hole straight through his skull.

Aro, who couldn't see the exchange went on like nothing had occurred. "Perhaps the venom James put into your system altered your physiology slightly?" he suggested in explanation for why I might have made it.

Immediately, I stiffened—I hadn't thought of that before. I didn't know of any other humans that had been bitten and not turned into vampires, or died… so I was an anomaly in that sense already. But I didn't feel any harder-skinned than before. I was still as fragile as Kleenex and Edward as hard as steel. He'd just been miraculously careful.

"No, he was simply very gentle," I mumbled abashedly towards the phone, before I tentatively decided to explain what the issue really was. "But he did give me something neither of us expected…"

"A good spanking," Emmett mouthed, miming the motion in the air. He almost laughed out loud at his own joke.

Automatically, I smacked him on the knee for his inappropriate antics. But as if to prove my earlier point about not being any more invulnerable than before, I only succeeded in hurting myself.

"Ow!" I sharply cried out as my hand collided with unyielding, rocky flesh.

My cry of distress caused Aro to panic on the other end. "Bella! What is wrong?!" he shouted with sudden hysteria into the phone. "Bella!"

Seeing that I was currently incapacitated in pain, Carlisle took this opportunity to take back over the conversation.

"Aro, I need you to set aside all of your preconceived notions and please answer me as honestly as you can," he requested calmly of his friend while I continued to moan. I held my stupidly injured hand in the other as it rapidly turned from bright red to a sickly purplish color.

"Of course, Carlisle," Aro answered automatically. He forced himself to take an audible deep breath to calm his raving nerves. Then he pleaded with an unexpected urgency—like his life depended on it, "What is going on, my friend? Is dear Isabella going to be alright?"

Carlisle hesitated, not knowing precisely the best way to broach the topic. He shared another brief knowing look with his wife as he deliberated.

But we all heard Aro's fingers flittering about, tapping the back of his phone impatiently, anxiously as he waited for the doctor to respond. And we knew that he couldn't stall any longer.

Finally Carlisle said, "Bella has… encountered something unusual. I want your assurance that you won't act rashly when you learn what it is."

"…Unusual how?" Aro prodded warily.

It sounded like he was not entirely certain he would like the answer, but nonetheless dying to know what my problem was and if there was anything he could do to fix it. His words only seemed to confirm my growing suspicion that the idea of me being unhealthy in any way scared the crap out of him for some reason.

But for the life of me I couldn't figure out why. _Maybe he had seen how my powers would manifest as a vampire in Alice's mind._ I considered. _And maybe he wanted me for that reason. Maybe I was just another valuable trinket to add to his impressive collection._ He would need me alive, or at least not dead in the final sense for that... But that still felt like a stretch.

But then again, nothing else made a shred of sense.

I mean, he couldn't actually _care_ about me, could he?

"Is it dangerous? To our secret, I mean…" Aro specified, as though that was only thing that might interfere with his decision. The only thing that might stop him from stealing Heidi's private jet in the next ten minutes and flying directly to our house from Italy to see me himself. "Obviously it is endangering her health…" he trailed off sullenly.

"I do not believe so," Carlisle tried to reassure him. "But it's difficult to tell at this point," he amended quickly. "You see… it's too soon for that," Carlisle revealed, trying to share as many facets of the truth as he could without actually spilling the big beans yet.

"I am afraid I do not see at all, Carlisle," Aro said with evident frustration. I guessed that because of his powers, he wasn't used to not knowing everything immediately, and now the suspense was killing him. "Please cease speaking in riddles and tell me plainly what ails Isabella!"

Carlisle sighed. His dark, worried eyes flickered over each of us, as if to silently communicate "here goes nothing," before he decided to follow Aro's instructions.

He said as bluntly as he could, "Bella is pregnant, with Edward's child."

There was a long silence on the other end of the line that followed Carlisle's declaration.

A very long silence.

Emmett and Rosalie exchanged looks of concern.

And Carlisle tried to sooth the fears of his wife by tenderly rubbing her hand as she sat ramrod still next to him. She was petrified in terror of the words we might hear next—the command to kill.

But for several minutes we didn't hear anything on the other end of the line. No barked orders to the guards to fetch and exterminate. No rushing of wind to indicate Aro was moving, or even breathing. No gasp of disbelief. No offers of advice or words of understanding...

Just nothing.

And as the soundlessness dragged on, it was beginning to make me feel very uncomfortable—a fact which my baby picked up on very quickly. In a matter of seconds, he began kicking around again as chilly adrenaline jolted through my veins.

I understood that my stress worked him up, so I tried to calm myself as much as I could to avoid further injury. But as we waited stiffly on the couches. Stared at the silent phone resting on the coffee table, with crossed fingers. And prayed to whatever deity might listen that I could survive; it was impossible to feel anywhere near at ease.

Too much was at stake.

This was the moment when we would learn whether calling Aro had been the best idea or worst mistake.

After several minutes elapsed since Carlisle's grave announcement, he was about to reach for the phone to make sure it was still on. That we hadn't accidentally disconnected, when Aro's musical voice suddenly came on the line again.

"That is impossible, my friend," he said confidently, after he had taken quite some time to consider the prospect.

I guess I had to give him some credit that he was unwilling to dismiss the idea immediately without mulling it over.

"We are infertile," Aro stated the way one might say "Zebras have stripes", like it was an immutable and thoroughly obvious fact. "Surely as a physician you should know this?"

"Our _women_ are infertile, yes," Carlisle agreed easily with Aro.

I caught Rosalie tensing in the corner of my eye with a wounded look in her eyes as her surrogate father mentioned this devastating fact so casually.

"But if I am correct with my hypothesis, then you and I both retain our fertility. Male fertility is less… incompatible with our frozen state it seems," Carlisle explained academically. He was using almost the same words I had used when I had first posited the theory of how this might be possible to him. Though his were flowerier and more scientific.

Aro paused to rethink his assessment, in light of this new information. "You mean to tell me that… hypothetically I could father a child with a human?" Suddenly, he sounded ravenously curious in a way that frightened me.

Aro wasn't planning on … erm… _testing_ this hypothetical was he?

Carlisle cut through Aro's musings immediately, probably thinking along the same lines as I was. "I wouldn't advise it," he sternly cautioned, his tone final and forbidding. "The risks are enormous."

"You need not worry, my dear friend," came Aro's buttery reply. "I would never have the necessary restraint," he confessed, adamant that he wouldn't be able to be quite as gentle as Edward had been in the heat of the moment.

"And I do not fancy myself an incubus," Aro assured Carlisle. "Mixing intercourse with feeding is a _revolting_ perversion I would never indulge in," he added with a gagging noise to emphasis his point.

To me, the fact that the premeditated underhanded sexual behavior Aro described in his last statement was repugnant to him was heartening. It seemed to prove that Aro wasn't _entirely_ amoral, just that he had slightly different beliefs of what constituted right and wrong when it came to hunting humans. Different beliefs that apparently meant luring an unsuspecting woman into his bed knowing that she would inevitably end up crushed or devoured was totally despicable. And I was happy that on that front we could both agree.

However, those words did not appear to be as comforting to Carlisle, whose entire face scrunched in offense at Aro's words.

Initially this perplexed me. _Why on earth would Carlisle be upset that Aro saw something deeply wrong with such predatory acts_? Until I realized that Aro hadn't specified how he felt about the idea of a mortal and vampire going at it when death wasn't involved.

 _Did Aro find our honeymoon morally reprehensible, simply because one of us was human? Is that what Carlisle was offended by? The insinuation that we'd behaved_ _inappropriately_? I wondered.

I was just beginning to ponder these ideas when Aro spoke again, interrupting my thoughts. "However, the concept of a hybrid _is_ fascinating," he admitted. "May I come and see her? Confirm this unbelievable tale for myself?"

Carlisle looked towards me, his eyes searching out mine to see if I was okay with what Aro had suggested.

"Y-You've never heard of anything like this happening before?" I choked out.

I wanted to make sure that he really was as clueless as he sounded, and not putting up some kind of front as an excuse to come after Alice. Though she wasn't here, so it would be moot anyway.

"I am afraid not, my dear," Aro replied. His voice was an hundred times silkier as he spoke to me, like he was making an extra effort.

I stiffened as I finally realized that Carlisle had been wrong. Aro didn't know anything either.

No one did.

My baby was entirely unprecedented, at least as far as anyone existing today knew. Perhaps in medieval times, where most of the legends we had found regarding supernatural pregnancies came from, someone had known about this. But since then, the information must have been lost. And Aro had never had the rare privilege of coming across this before then.

"Though you need not fear me, Bella," Aro rushed to say. "I will only be accompanied by a handful of my most loyal. And I am not in the habit of punishing the innocent for stumbling into uncertain circumstances."

His voice rang again with that astounding authenticity that perplexed me. He really didn't want me to get hurt at all. The idea sounded even more repugnant to him than Carlisle's humane diet. Which was saying a lot.

"I come in peace," Aro reiterated. "To examine and assist, not destroy."

"You're not upset that I'm still human?" That would be the most logical reaction to all of this, I thought.

"If Carlisle is telling the truth, you are bearing a vampire's child at the moment. Introducing venom into your system at this point would not be advisable, lest you wish to be perpetually pregnant," he deduced logically.

I shuddered at the idea of my beautiful little baby boy becoming frozen in his immaturity in my stomach. Unable to ever be separated from his mother's womb. Unable to ever see the outside world. But destined to remain confined in the prison of my belly forever.

Of course I wouldn't want that—that would be beyond awful.

"And truthfully, in carrying one of our own, you ought to be considered a part of the supernatural world already," Aro said as though this should be obvious. "The child is, at least half immortal, and as a part of you, I would say you are as well. Welcome to our world, Bella," he extended courteously.

Aro's open acceptance of my mortal condition jarred me, and everyone else in the room. We were completely dumbfounded by it.

After a moment Aro seemed to realize that he was being uncharacteristically magnanimous and he went on, "Besides, you do intend to become one of us in the fuller sense eventually, yes?"

I hacked out with much difficulty, "If I survive this." My throat started to hurt something fierce—like it was on fire. "The pregnancy isn't exactly going smoothly…" I revealed before a harsh coughing fit forcibly cut me off.

"Ah, then it is best that I do come," he sighed in that downy voice of his. "Perhaps I can be of assistance."

Though it didn't sound like a "perhaps" the way he had said it. What he really seemed to be saying was, _I am going to come over there as soon as the laws of physics will permit and do everything in my power to help._

"I would greatly appreciate that, Aro," Carlisle chipped in instantly. "When will you arrive?"

I didn't have a lot of time, judging based on how far along the starvation process I already was.

There was a quick rustling noise that sounded an awful lot like Aro was throwing on a coat or a cape of some sort, and a metallic jingle of car keys, before he responded, "I will be on your front doorstep within a couple hours."

We heard a shrill snap as he undid the iron lock. And thunderous footsteps as he exited the soundproof room. But it was obvious that Aro wasn't hanging up just yet. He was still holding his phone dutifully to his ear as he made preparations to leave immediately.

Carlisle's eyes widened to the size of golf-balls. "Can you really get here that fast?"

We heard Aro quickly open another door. Then he began rifling audibly through stacks of papers and clothes in this other room, probably packing the things he wished to bring with him.

"I arrived in Seattle yesterday on other business…" Aro explained as he collected his things, sounding extremely reluctant to clarify any further what this "other business" had been.

I wondered if his reluctance to say why he was there had to do with the fact that he had lethally punished someone for their crimes and that sort of thing made Carlisle kind of queasy. Or because it was something that had to do with us.

 _Had he come to check up on us? Had we stopped him with our call just before he started to head this way?_ I wondered. _Or was it simply routine Volturi business that Carlisle had no need to be privy to?_

Without Alice around to confirm his decisions, we had no way of knowing what his plans had been.

"Do you need to attend to that matter before you come?" Carlisle asked urgently. The slight panic in his voice suggested that he was worried Aro would drop something that was extremely important—more important, when it came to preserving the world's greater safety, than an unexpected hybrid pregnancy—in order to rush over here.

Esme too, looked like she shared this fear.

And I wondered what they knew that I didn't. C _ertainly Aro wouldn't act so rashly. I mean, who was I to him anyway that he would throw caution to the wind? I couldn't possibly be special enough for that. To him I was a curiosity, maybe a tool to minutely further his power, but mostly an annoyance._

Or so I thought.

"No. The matter has already passed," Aro placated the doctor.

We heard more rustling. And the zippering of a large suitcase before Aro resumed walking again. His feet sounded like they were moving lightning fast over an echoy, hard surface.

"I will go fetch my automobile immediately. My guard should arrive tomorrow."

"Who will you bring?" Carlisle asked fearfully.

Obviously he was just as worried as I was that whomever the frantic coven leader chose would not be as interested in preserving my life as Aro seemed to be. That whomever they were might try to pressure Aro into taking the "easy option" and simply killing me along with the "problem."

Caius certainly wouldn't endorse my survival—his words condemning me to death for my mortality during our last encounter indicated as much. And neither would Jane. Marcus wouldn't be any help as a bodyguard. And I wasn't entirely sure I trusted Demetri or Felix. Because beneath their loyal façades they seemed to have their own agendas.

"Oh, I think Renata should suffice," Aro said thoughtfully.

Instantly I was comforted. From what little I'd seen of Renata, when she'd stood a few feet behind Aro the last time we'd met, she seemed rather gentle. Despite her necessarily somewhat violent role as Aro's trusted protector, there had been a unique softness about her that had made me at ease in her presence.

I'd also been told that her gift was entirely defensive and not at all menacing on its own—she just repelled attackers. And her physique, diminutive and unmuscular, was completely nonthreatening.

And even though she'd hardly said anything, I could tell from her demeanor that Renata was unswervingly loyal to Aro. Which meant she probably wouldn't call for my death if he did not.

Of all of the Volturi I knew, she would be the most likely to accept my terrifying situation with grace.

So I was happy with Aro's decision.

But Carlisle balked at Aro's words. " _Just_ Renata? You said you were bringing a handful!" he exclaimed. Though he wasn't upset.

I could tell from the way Carlisle's shoulders relaxed, that the idea of Aro only bringing his most trusted bodyguard pleased him, since it placed me in a lot less danger. But Carlisle just couldn't imagine that Aro would chose to travel with only one protector.

And as I really mulled it over, neither could I. I imagined that Aro had probably never left his fortress in Volterra without at least five or six guards accompanying him. Knowing that the Volturi had gained many enemies over the centuries it was only smart. And Carlisle and I both found it extremely baffling that he intended on breaking this trend.

 _Wouldn't the guards he'd brought to Seattle want to follow him? Or had he done the unthinkable and come alone?_

"Oh trust me, Renata _is_ quite the handful." Aro chortled at his own joke before adding in an abruptly serious tone, "And upon consideration, I do not trust anyone else to be so… _understanding_ of Isabella's situation. You are not intending to ambush me on arrival, are you?" he probed, expecting an answer in the negative.

"Of course not." Carlisle sounded considerably hurt by the prospect. Aro was a dear friend to him, not an enemy. And if he could avoid a violent confrontation, I knew Carlisle would at all costs.

"I simply didn't think you trusted us that much," Carlisle admitted honestly.

"Yes, well…" Aro trailed off before he could finish his sentence, as though he thought better of it. "I am having a difficult time trusting many of late," he cryptically revealed. He didn't bother to specify who or what had caused him to lose his trust.

We heard a garage door open on the other end of the line. "But you are not among them, Carlisle." Aro said in a tone that suggested that he didn't believe additional guards were necessary, since Carlisle posed him no actual danger. "I know your heart to be pure. You will not harm me."

It was almost spoken as a command as much as it was spoke as a declaration of confidence.

But Carlisle seemed to feel thoroughly privileged by the ramifications of this bold statement all the same. "Thank you, Aro. Your faith in me is flattering."

"It is only what is due. Especially in light of…" Aro paused, before again opting to not voice whatever was on his mind.

The garage door came to a stop. We heard the unmistakable electronic click sound of a car unlocking, followed by the muffled sounds of Aro loading his luggage into the trunk.

Realizing that Aro was about to leave, Carlisle quickly switched subjects to one he thought especially pertinent. "I believe you already know that you and Renata cannot hunt humans within the city we are staying in."

Rosalie and Esme stiffened on their respective couches as they remembered that Aro did not share their diet.

But Carlisle paid them no mind and continued. "Perhaps you should make certain you are filled before you come?"

"Ah, of course, how considerate of you to remind me," Aro remarked happily, pleased with Carlisle's thoughtfulness. "But it is no matter. I already fed this morning."

He said it so offhandedly that I almost forgot what Aro really meant when he said that— _an innocent human being died this morning to become Aro's meal._

But Carlisle did not. "You hunted in Seattle?" he asked, his eyebrows raising in what looked like alarm.

At first I thought that Carlisle was upset for the same reason I was—that a person had been murdered for their blood. He wasn't an enormous fan of the "natural" diet most vampires lived on. But I had expected him to be a little more practical and diplomatic. There was no reason to unduly antagonize Aro right now, when two lives more central to the doctor than complete strangers hung in the balance.

"Of course," Aro replied as though it ought to be obvious. _Where else would I feed? That is where I am at,_ his voice seemed to say. "Do you wish to know any more details regarding my choice of prey? He was rather delectable, I must admit. So uniquely juicy…" Aro teased.

He was utilizing the same tactic I often did when people asked intrusive questions I didn't really want to answer. The tactic of overloading the other person with too much information so that they would never ask that kind of question again. Though it wasn't as funny on the receiving end. The image of Aro pouncing and savagely biting through some human's neck was starting to make my head swim.

"Heavens no, Aro!" Carlisle complained, totally disgusted, and Aro chuckled. "I was simply making sure that you had steered clear of the tribal lands."

Suddenly his uncharacteristically personal question about his friend's unsavory eating habits made sense to me. Carlisle wasn't trying to guilt his friend into rethinking his stance on drinking human blood, (which would be a futile quest anyway). He was just making sure that Aro didn't get himself killed by making Laurent's mistake. The mistake of trying to hunt humans in werewolf territory.

"I know as well as you do the dangers that our kind may encounter there," Aro acknowledged. "At least, the dangers faced by those of us who do not adhere to your lifestyle." He added to make it clear that he was already well aware of the werewolves down in La Push. I guessed he had probably seen them and the Cullen's treaty with them in Edward's thoughts.

"I have been careful not to antagonize them by hunting on, or otherwise invading, their territory," Aro assured us.

He pulled the phone away from his ear for a moment to open a car door. Then he settled into a noisy leather seat.

"I am not so foolish as James and Laurent, ignoring claims where they are clearly staked," he continued.

It jarred me, though not Carlisle, that Aro was recollecting events he wasn't present for, and that we had never verbally shared. I guess I just wasn't accustomed yet to the ramifications of his powers as I was with those of the gifted Cullens.

"Very well," Carlisle mumbled in reluctant acceptance.

He seemed to realize, that despite how firmly he personally opposed it, that Aro's diet was not going to bring undue harm upon the ancient himself. Or any of the rest of us.

"I will see you when you arrive."

An engine, obviously belonging to an expensive luxury car from its beautifully sculpted timbre, roared to life.

Aro said one last thing before he hung up. "I look forward to it."


	5. Chapter 5: Arrival

**AN: This chapter was a blast to write! So much fun stuff, so I'll just shut up now and let you enjoy. ;)**

* * *

…

 _Whatsoever house I may enter,_

 _my visit shall be for the convenience and advantage of the patient;_

 _and I will willingly refrain from doing any injury or wrong._

 _-Original Version of the Hippocratic Oath_

…

CHAPTER FIVE: ARRIVAL

After Aro hung up, Esme immediately began frenetically cleaning the house. She looked suddenly concerned with how it messy it might appear to Aro, despite its already immaculate state. So she went about dusting every surface and fluffing every pillow in sight, before dashing off in a blurr to do the rest of the house. After a few minutes she returned, having retrieved her most prized decorations from their careful wrappings in the attic. Then she began setting them around the living room like she was preparing the area to be visited by the President of the United States or something.

While Esme flitted about, Carlisle scurried off to gather together his notes on my condition. Once he'd retrieved them all, he neatly stacked all the crisp white papers together in a manila folder and placed it on the coffee table in front of me. Presumably he did this so that he and Aro could begin discussing solutions to my deteriorating health right away.

And after a few minutes of their frantic behavior, even Rosalie left my side to fiddle with her hair and makeup before Aro arrived. She was only meant to be gone for a brief moment. But that "brief moment" ended up stretching on indefinitely.

As they all made their preparations for his imminent arrival, I tried to relax. To focus my mind on anything but the fact that a king of the vampire world was coming here to check up on me. And that he might decide the medicine I needed was death. But nothing was working.

Emmett distracted himself by putting some sports program on TV. But I'd never been a huge sports fan, so the athletes scurrying around blurrily in front of me held no interest. I couldn't even tell whether it was football or baseball that Emmett was watching.

And my eyes were much too heavy with fatigue to really concentrate enough to read a book.

And every other method I had used to kill time in the past required movement. And movement was a definite no-no given how little energy I had due to the strange starvation that was wracking my body.

So without any other option, I simply stared blankly off into space, completely ignoring everyone. I paid no mind to the two vampires whipping around me, cleaning and collecting medical equipment in their wake. Nor any to the one eagerly cheering for the yellow blurs on the screen to win.

It was hardly a riveting activity. But I figured it would have to do until Aro came, since there really wasn't anything else I was capable of doing in the meantime. Except maybe sleeping.

But since I was overflowing with anxiety and fear about our imminent meeting, I felt fairly certain that was impossible. That until the powerful vampire arrived I would stay alert, sitting stiffly upright on the edge of my seat.

But apparently I underestimated just how fatigued I really was. After only fifteen minutes or so, the exhaustion I now battled constantly consumed me and I fell asleep on the soft sofa cushions.

There was no telling how long I was out—but it didn't really matter.

...

Sometime later I awoke to the deafening squeal of tires against pavement; a sharp scary sound that jolted me upright and caused my baby to start tumbling painfully around in fear. At first I thought that Emmett had switched the channel to watch NASCAR racing instead, with the volume turned up much too loud. As I tried to comfort my hyperactive stomach dweller with lulling words and motherly pats, I was about to yell at him to turn it down. That is, until my weary brown eyes flickered over to the television.

Its screen was blank and dark. After a moment, I realized, to my utter bewilderment, that it was off.

Emmett too was mysteriously missing from the couch he'd been sitting on earlier. And the others had all vanished as well, leaving me alone in a room that ought to be completely silent. Well, except for my hisses of pain as the baby kicked bruisingly against my skin. But it definitely wasn't.

In any other situation my sudden abandonment would have terrified the living daylights out of me. But the dull engine roar now continuously permeating the background had my full attention. It gradually increased in volume and pitch, like the source of sound was physically getting closer.

And I wasn't alone for very long anyway—not long enough to warrant freaking out, at least.

When the screaming sound of rubber burning on asphalt sounded again, like someone headed this way was taking a corner really fast—and I mean like 200 miles-per-hour kind of fast—Emmett suddenly reappeared at the bottom of the stairs.

Immediately I looked to him to figure out what was going on.

 _If those sounds weren't from a car on television…_ I sluggishly began to reason out, my thoughts still foggy from sleep.

But I wasn't able to finish that thought before Emmett started shouting the reason for his movements. And his theory behind what was causing the strange noises I was hearing.

He directed his words up the stairs to the rest of the family. "Guys! Get down here! I think that's Aro!" Emmett bellowed, impatiently waving his hands towards the large glass windows.

 _Aro?_ My dazed brain struggled to process. Images of the man in question, clad in the pitch black robes and the matching hooded cloak I'd seen him in during our last encounter flitted through my head, reminding me who they were talking about. _Right, him._

My weary mind then dredged up murky pictures of Aro fluidly bent over my hands and marveling at the fact that he saw nothing when he touched me. _That's right, I'm immune to one of his most defining characteristics._

Dimly, over the blaring sounds of speedy driving, I wondered if that fact might contribute to his reaction to my child. _Could he read my baby's mind?_ I wondered.

Edward had never said anything to indicate that he could. But perhaps he simply kept silent in order to further depersonalize my little miracle. Acknowledging that my baby had thoughts, even relatively incoherent ones, would be to concede that he was a sentient being. And that would only bolster my argument that he was a person worth protecting, rather than just a malignant clump of cells.

 _But would my child's thoughts or lack thereof alter Aro's verdict?_ I worried. He said he came to examine and assist, not destroy. _But what if what he sees makes him change his mind?_

He hadn't sounded murderous over the phone, quite contrarily he seemed extremely personally invested in assuring my health and safety. But would that totally unfounded compassion suddenly disappear once he heard my child's impulsive thoughts? Or looked over Carlisle's papers and saw how quickly the child inside me was growing? Or how little we knew of what he was to become?

There were a hundred reasons, I realized in that moment, that Aro could rationalize my execution. And from my perspective there were almost as many benefits from such an action—though three in particular stood out to me in that moment.

The first was, if I were dead, that would be one less tether holding Alice and Edward away from his clutches. One less family member to be loyal to above his abilities to persuade otherwise.

The second was that it would very easily solve the whole problem of having a possibly uncontrollably murderous (though I disagreed) hybrid about to be released into the world.

And the third was that if I were dead, there would be no one left in the world who could keep secrets from him. Aro relied on his gift in many ways to secure his power. And the fact that my life experiences were hidden from him could make me a threat to his reign.

 _So why had he sounded so concerned about my survival? Like there was nothing else in the world that mattered to him more? Logically, wouldn't I be better off dead to him?_ I struggled to reason out.

I failed to comprehend the enigmatic man's complex motives for sounding so eager to help us out.

Edward had always said that I was too naïve in assuming honesty and goodwill from everyone. But because they'd been consistently in my favor, even before Aro had known I was listening in, I was certain that Aro been genuine in his statements.

Either that, or he was the best liar on the face of the planet earth.

It was all so confusing.

Emmett's cry jerked me from my puzzled thoughts. "Carlisle! Esme!" he suddenly shouted, louder this time, towards the unresponsive upper floor.

With a frantic look on his face, Emmett glanced out the window, presumably looking at the noisily approaching car, before he turned back, gesturing wildly towards the wood-paneled steps. "Get down here now! Aro is almost here!"

Still uncertain as if I could trust Aro, given my complete lack of understanding of his motivations, I guardedly grabbed my stomach—which had become an instant reflex now.

 _Aro was here already?_ Or at least, _almost_ here, judging by the extremely loud driving sounds I was hearing from outside.

I couldn't believe it. I don't think I slept for more than an hour… I reasoned, before my paranoia abruptly kicked into overdrive. _What if him coming to help me is all a ruse? What if he just wants to see Alice and will be very angry when he finds out she's ran for the hills?_

At that moment, Carlisle and Esme flew down the stairs as two pale streaks of light against the elegantly wood-paneled walls. They paused only momentarily to straighten their wind-whipped hair before Carlisle spoke to Emmett.

His voice was urgent, but not afraid—at least not for himself. "Are you sure?"

But before Emmett could respond, suddenly the noises became unbearably loud, like they were just outside the thin glass walls. Then they began squeaking to a painful stop with a sound like wheels skidding just before a car crash.

Everyone flinched as the noise pierced their eardrums. It was high and grating like nails on chalkboard.

Instinctively, I braced myself for impact. I ducked into the couch with my hands cupped over my head, not believing that whoever was driving up to this house would stop in time. They hadn't put on the breaks until the very last moment. And as I desperately clutched the woolen blankets, I fully expected to see headlights smashing through the garage wall into the living room.

But thankfully as I cowered, such a thing never happened.

The chafing sound of rubber peeling against gravel suddenly ceased. And instantly an oppressive silence filled the room.

No one dared to puncture the tense, empty air with sound. Instead, they merely looked worriedly at one another, and especially at me…

…That is, until Emmett suddenly decided to answer Carlisle's earlier question.

"Do you know anyone else who drives a 458 Italia?" He pointed outside with a slightly envious look burning in his black eyes.

And sure enough, resting in the Cullen's driveway, with a trail of inky black tire marks snaking behind it off into the trees, was a bright red, brilliantly polished Ferrari. It was parked perfectly parallel next to Alice's yellow Porsche 911 Turbo, which looked garish and cheap in comparison.

I marveled at the unfamiliar sight for a few seconds after I stumbled off the couch and hobbled over to the window with the others to get a better look. The Cullens may be obscenely rich and have an unparalleled passion for fancy automobiles. But they would never own something as extravagant and ostentatious as this.

It wasn't that they weren't wealthy enough—Carlisle's Aston Martin was actually much more expensive. It simply conflicted with their desire to keep a low profile. Most of their vehicles, Alice's car being the only exception, could be written off as just generic "nice cars" to the uninitiated. But there was no way even the most auto-illiterate person could ever overlook the bold streamlined curves and dynamic paintjob that screamed to the world that this car costed more than most people's houses.

 _"This is a Ferrari"_ every component of the stunning work of art told the world, as if bellowing the words on loudspeaker. "This isn't just a nice car—this is the car driven by the _gods_ ," it said.

For a few moments I was too stunned by the beauty of it, to even process what it's sudden appearance actually meant. Its driver was still shrouded behind tinted windows and the whole vehicle gleamed in the summer sun.

Carlisle wasn't as impressed as I was, though. He seemed more concerned with the dark tread marks streaking up the road and gravel leading up to the house. At least, until his keen eyes detected movement in the driver's seat. Then he focused squarely on the owner of the vehicle who chose that moment to exit.

As the front door on the driver's side of the Ferrari popped open, my moment was shattered as I suddenly remembered exactly who was supposed to be emerging from within. I quickly latched onto Esme for support.

My breathing stopped for a second as a dark, leather-booted leg gracefully touched down, followed by another. Next came the driver's head, ducking out into the early morning light. And I froze—I wasn't sure whether in terror or awe—as my eyes fell upon the beautiful and scarily powerful visage I had once hoped to never see again.

His handsome alabaster face hadn't aged a single day since we last met, locked forever like Carlisle's somewhere in his early twenties. And his hair still flowed, long and blacker than midnight in an elegant trail, part of it tied back in a manner that hearkened from another century.

Atop his shoulders I saw a pair of delicately embroidered epaulets belonging to a long black coat. And a thin antique golden chain glittered around his neck, carrying the V-shaped crest of the organization he headed. But the pendant, and what it represented, was not what made me the most uncomfortable in that moment.

Instead it was his two bright ruby-red eyes, filled with fresh blood and determination that gave me the most pause.

Intellectually I knew what they represented—that Aro had recently sated his thirst in a manner that was too horrific to thoroughly contemplate. But revulsion was not the only thing I felt when I first gazed upon them.

It wasn't even my primary emotion.

The dominant feeling I had as I looked on them was a weird stirring inside me. It was the most unsettling combination of hunger and lust. And it made me feel oddly hot all over, despite the fact that I had never really paused to consider the man's attractiveness before.

It wasn't that I hadn't noticed. Even when we had first met, five months ago—when I had been too afraid for Edward's life to think of much else—his otherworldly beauty was something that had caught my attention. He had always been striking, I supposed, with a sharp widow's peak, aristocratic features and the incredible contrast between his skin tone and his hair. But I'd never given the matter much thought at the time. Every vampire I'd ever met, (with the possible exception of James), was extraordinarily stunning. So that Aro was also a breathtaking sight, well… that was nothing new.

I'd still gawked at him then. But I was mostly impressed with how graceful his every movement was. And at least _that_ characteristic of his was perfectly harmless. I had never thought that I would gape at the man the way I was now, my interest specifically centered on his murder-hued irises.

Had he remained in one place for long enough, he might have perceived that I was openly ogling him through the window. But he only hovered halfway out of his vehicle for a moment. Then he stepped completely out of the car, closing the door quickly behind him, and made a beeline for the front door.

I vainly tried to shake myself from these musings. This was Aro of the Volturi I was thinking about here.

I really needed to get my wacky, pregnancy-addled brain under control. First I'd ogled Carlisle. And later this week Emmett. And now Aro of all people.

 _Why was it that my hormones had suddenly made every male vampire around me a thousand times hotter than I remembered them being?_

Or maybe it was just all men, period. I really hadn't seen a human boy since Edward and I had left for our honeymoon, which seemed like ages ago. So I was struggling to remember what they even looked like. Certainly nothing like the demigod who had arrived on our doorstep today…

But at that moment, an impatient knock banged against the front door.

Suddenly, all my bizarre lustful thoughts were banished from my mind. Fearfully, I swallowed, and circled my arms around my precious baby boy. This action necessitated relinquishing my grasp on Esme's satin lavender dress, (a semi-formal but still quite stunning number she'd arrayed herself in just for the occasion). But sacrificing the comfort of clinging to her for the life of my baby was worth it.

In compensation for my loss of tactile connection, Esme protectively shifted in front of me. That way, her healthily proportioned body completely obscured my pencil-thin frame from Aro's view.

Then we both waited for the inevitable with bated breath. _This is it,_ I thought. _This is the moment of truth._

After giving me and his wife one last meaningful glance, I watched nervously over Esme's shoulder as Carlisle darted across the room to answer the door. He gradually reached for the knob and twisted it to the right, pulling aside the modern white door and revealing the man standing behind it.

The long coat I'd caught the barest glimpse of before went to Aro's knees. It was double-breasted in a military-style that was acceptably modern-looking if you had no idea that the man was a vampire, but obviously hinted at an older era if you knew what you were looking for. The same could be said of his boots, the color of ink and polished to perfection. But his hairstyle didn't quite fit the bill. Hair that long on men was unusual, typically a mark of some kind of counter-cultural thinking. And I'd never seen a man besides Aro whose chest-length locks were pin-straight and refined.

Even with the anachronistic hair, though, this ensemble was far less conspicuous than the ancient, hooded robes I had seen him in before. And presuming that this was what he had been wearing whilst staying in Seattle—which was quite a bit less conservative than the tiny town of Forks, (though not quite New York or Los Angeles crazy)—it was inconspicuous enough not to draw too much attention.

Maybe he'd get a few stares if he walked down the streets in broad daylight on an overcast day. But no one would give him a second glance at night. And he wouldn't be foolish enough to stride openly along the sidewalks in the sun.

While I gradually took in the sight of him standing imposingly on the front step, Aro's left leg twitched, like he was about to cross the threshold into Carlisle's home.

The disapproving look on the doctor's face made Aro remember his manners at the last minute though, and he immediately stilled.

"May I come in?" Aro inquired politely.

His enthralling red eyes hungrily searched the room after he spoke, (probably looking for me). But at least for the moment I remained invisible to him as I hovered a few inches behind Esme.

I held my breath and tried to still my thundering heart so that he wouldn't hear me either. And to my great relief, Aro decided to give up the search for now, directing his eyes back toward Carlisle and awaiting his response.

Carlisle stepped aside so that his long-distance companion could enter. "Of course, Aro, my friend," he responded with reciprocal cordiality. The tension I saw creeping into the doctor's shoulders betrayed his true nervousness, though. "You are always welcome in our home," he said with a warm smile as he held open the door for his friend.

Aro wasted absolutely no time hovering in the doorway. He darted directly into the center of the room as soon he had been given permission to enter. Then he glanced around at his unfamiliar surroundings with frantic interest as he deliberated on his next destination.

After a moment, Aro started pacing back and forth across the soft carpet with movements that were supernaturally fast, leaving only blurry dark flashes in my vision. As he frittered about, his deadly fingers danced around him in a chaotic whirlwind that was impossible to follow. The fact that I couldn't discern whether they were simply curiously searching or viciously reaching, made my heart lurch in fright.

Carlisle, who was in a much better position to determine whether Aro's actions were maliciously intentioned, watched Aro's fast movements with a calmer face. Though his chiseled features still betrayed concern.

The ancient's gaze flew around the room for a few moments, before the doctor slowly stepped back into Aro's frame of vision.

Carlisle held up a halting hand. And he made it clear with his firm stance that he would protect his family if necessary. "That is… you are welcome in our home as long as you agree to honor our past agreements…" he suddenly stipulated.

His warning caused Aro to halt in his tracks.

" _Especially_ what we decided when we last spoke…"

Aro stiffened significantly as he registered the unspoken threat in the normally compassionate doctor's tone.

But to my astonishment instead of reprimanding Carlisle for daring to command his superior, he simply gave a glum nod. Then took a deep breath to sooth away his jitteriness.

"Naturally," Aro breathed out calmly.

He relaxed at once and held perfectly still in compliance with the doctor's wishes. Though his beautiful face looked a little pinched like Carlisle's mistrust of him deeply hurt his feelings.

"Forgive my enthusiasm. I am merely beside myself with worry for Isabella's welfare," Aro explained apologetically.

And based on the way his lips were pursed into a worried line and his hands fluttered anxiously in front of his chest I completely believed him. Despite the fact that such a supreme entity becoming distraught because I was in danger seemed positively ludicrous.

"I meant nothing by it," Aro promised sincerely. "I will attempt to compose myself."

"Please do." Carlisle encouraged. His normally warm eyes were surprisingly cold and wary as they flickered uneasily between his long-distance friend, and his beloved wife, whom I hunched behind.

I quivered and struggled to remain silent as my infant picked up on the fearful waves coursing through my body and chose to physically protest them.

"Her situation may be dire, but it is not immediately life-threatening," Carlisle explained patiently. "Sudden movements may… startle her more than necessary," he finished softly, making a subtle "calm down" gesture with his hands.

"Ah, you are right," Aro seemed to consider for the first time, tapping his chin in deep thought. "Humans do tend to find our swift movements rather unnerving."

An awkward pause followed his words, during which no one really knew what to say.

Slowly, Aro turned away from Emmett and Carlisle to face Esme and I. Though, from my strategic placement behind Esme, Aro still couldn't see me yet.

"Though I do hope I have made it abundantly clear that I have come in peace," Aro reminded us in his silkiest voice.

"Wait…" Emmett interjected, stepping quickly back into Aro's line of sight. The muscular vampire's eyes were suspicious and searched around the room, especially in the general direction of the open entrance door.

When what he was looking for eluded him, Emmett's hulking muscles tensed apprehensively. "Where's Renata?"

Aro's lips curled into a minute frown as he heard Emmett's dubious inquiry. "I did mention on the phone that she would not be arriving until the morrow. I left the guard behind to take care of certain matters, so she is traveling from Volterra…" he started to remind the tense giant before him in a buttery baritone.

But he wasn't able to finish because Emmett rudely cut him off, his tone biting and disbelieving. "You came to Seattle alone?!" Emmett barked out through gritted teeth, like the idea was particularly abominable.

His reaction startled me. It was true that I too shared his bewilderment. _Aro had traveled to a foreign country, bustling with various lethal threats and age-old enemies, without a single back-up? Really?_

But I didn't understand the reason for Emmett's anger. I thought Aro flying solo made him a lot less dangerous. Aro couldn't exactly exterminate me alone—not with four vampire bodyguards to stand in his way.

At least, I was hoping that he couldn't…

"Emmett!" Carlisle snapped at his surrogate son. He looked aghast that his son was behaving so rudely towards his friend—the person who ultimately held my life and the life of my darling baby in his undead hands.

Carlisle's chastisement caused Emmett to look downwards at the floor with guilt.

"This is good thing," Carlisle added in a significantly softer voice as he saw his son's remorse, echoing my inner musings exactly. "It means that he trusts us a great deal and isn't looking for a fight."

Carlisle's eyes briefly flickered to meet Aro's in a way that made me realize the doctor's last statement was a double-edged sword. Simultaneously he was reprimanding Emmett for thinking ill of his friend, and delivering a thinly-veiled warning to Aro not to start anything.

And Aro didn't miss it, but rather looked surprisingly cowed by his friend's words.

Carlisle's face softened a bit once he realized Aro wasn't going to try anything. "He only wants to help."

Emmett rolled his eyes towards his father like he didn't believe Carlisle for a second. But his only action was to give Aro one last scathing look before he stormed off, threw himself down irately on top of one of the creamy beige couches, and petulantly crossed his arms.

While Emmett scowled, Aro bobbed his head slightly to agree with the Cullen patriarch's last remarks. Then he sighed heavily like he was majorly disappointed by the recent verbal altercation. But otherwise he made no comment.

After a momentary pause, Aro abruptly changed the subject. "Speaking of Isa… I mean Bella," Aro corrected upon seeing Emmett's icy glare from across the room. "Where is she?"

His voice and eerily wide smile were both shining with unmasked excitement. Like he was a six-year-old begging his mother to know when he got to go to the carnival.

A brief silence followed his question, during which Esme, Carlisle and Emmett all shared those deeply frustrating knowing looks that indicated they were all harboring a momentous secret from me.

Deciding they were going to be no help, Aro suddenly inclined his head upwards and began sniffing the air. His pale eyelids fluttered closed as he inhaled, helping him to concentrate on his sense of smell alone.

After taking a significant whiff of the clean, slightly floral atmosphere, he drifted forward eagerly, like he'd caught the specific scent he was looking for. The aroma made his brilliant red eyes jolt open and immediately fixate on Esme. Or rather, straight through her. Because from the information supplied by his superior nose, he now he knew exactly where I was.

His mouth twisted into a savagely ecstatic grin.

"Ah… there you are," he murmured aloud rapturously. He steepled his fingers together by his mouth and gazed directly at me through Esme's satin-swathed body like he had X-ray vision or something. "Would you be so kind as to step aside, my dear Esme, so that I might see her?" Aro requested with perfect politeness.

Though the subtly commanding way he had spoken the words made it clear that he intended them as a demand, rather than a suggestion.

But despite knowing that disobedience might have horrible consequences, Esme didn't immediately comply. Instead, she went totally rigid in front of me, widening her high-heel bearing feet and hunkering ever so slightly into an athletic stance. She was ready to pounce if Aro were planning on attacking.

A small frown bent Aro's thin lips as he saw Esme's reaction. The rest of his body language rapidly followed, reconfiguring from conveying uncontrollable glee to an ambiance of mild sadness.

"I assure you I mean her no harm," Aro vowed with a voice sweet and ensnaring like honey. To punctuate his statement he dipped his head in the tiniest of bows.

"Bella?" Esme called worriedly over her shoulder to me without moving.

I could tell from the concerned tone of her voice that she was asking if I would be okay with her following Aro's appeal for her to step out of the way. Asking if I would be okay for her relinquishing her bodily protection for at least a few seconds.

The idea of my vampire bodyguard moving to expose me to his scouring eyes honestly terrified me. But I knew that if she didn't, eventually a fight would break out. And if there was anything that the ancient vampire could offer by way of advice to preserve the lives of myself and my child, (which was why we had summoned him here in the first place) he would have to see me in order to do so.

So after an incredibly tense moment—during which Carlisle and Emmett also flexed their supernaturally strong muscles and crouched, and Aro warily floated backwards a step as he registered the increasing tension in the room—I finally decided to speak.

"Go ahead," I coughed raspily in Esme's ear. "I'm ready."

Esme turned her neck around to face me. "Are you sure?"

I cowered behind her, cradling my thrashing baby in my purple-spotted arms. I bit my tongue to keep myself from crying out in pain as he lashed out against all the angry vibes bouncing around the room. And my mouth burned at the effort it took to keep silent. But I was able to bob my head in a short nod despite the agony.

Esme regarded the gesture with a deep skepticism in her gentle topaz eyes. But she complied nonetheless.

Gracefully, Esme sidestepped and allowed Aro his first chance to lay his eager eyes upon me since our last encounter.

I bristled a little as his eyes raked keenly over my whole body, starting from my swollen feet and traveling all the way to the crown of my head. Had he been human and I not completely hideous at the moment, I might have labeled the action as "checking me out". But Aro was a vampire, which meant that long, sultry looks like that could only mean that he was appraising my value as something to eat. Or perhaps my level of threat to his organization.

Not to mention I wasn't even worth checking out. My skin was an unhealthy, pale color. And I was stick-thin, disappearing beneath my baggy clothes everywhere. Well, except for my bulging belly, of course, which strained tight against the blue T-shirt Emmett had leant me. But the point was, I looked ghastly. Much worse than when I'd approached Aro last time, all wet and disheveled.

But as Aro's curious eyes swept intently over my starving figure, there was no revulsion in them. Only concern and wonderment.

Aro gasped as his deep, penetrating gaze landed upon my large, protruding belly. "So it is true!" he exclaimed happily. He spread his hands wide in lively celebration of this fact, before he quickly clasped them together and shook his head back and forth as though he still couldn't quite believe what he was seeing, even though it was currently staring him in the face.

"Isabella is pregnant after all…"

His abrupt switch to the more formal version of my name made it clear that he wasn't actually addressing me directly. Instead he was simply voicing his thoughts, in case anyone wondered.

Aro directed a pale hand towards the sizeable bump sticking out of my otherwise emaciated figure. "And quite far along at that..." he noted, sounding impressed.

"How miraculous!"Aro jubilantly cried again.

My baby jumped inside me, startled by the sudden interjection of an unfamiliar voice.

"I would have never suspected in all my many years that such a thing was possible," Aro went on. "A child conceived by a human and an immortal together…" he said, lowering his baffled voice to almost a whisper now.

Aro slowly reached forward with one hand towards my stomach, eager to feel the evidence for himself.

Terrified of the prospect of his powerful hands harming my baby, I stiffened in response to his increased proximity. And very much to my surprise and relief Aro immediately retracted as he realized it was impolite to touch without permission.

"Neither did we," Carlisle admitted with a sorrowful shake of his head.

The doctor softly shut the front door, which had still been standing wide open. Then he began striding slowly over to where Esme, Aro and I stood in order to properly join the conversation.

"If we had known to suspect that this could happen, well… we would have taken the appropriate precautions of course."

"But you could not have known," Aro supplied in rationalization for Carlisle's actions.

Aro drifted back from me a few inches and turned towards his friend. He affectionately patted Carlisle's shoulder, to remind the Cullen patriarch that he had done all he could, given the unprecedented circumstances.

"The only one who might have any inkling at all would be…" Aro spun around suddenly on his inky black heels mid-explanation. His eyes were searching again. "...dearest Alice…" he sighed, chagrin marring his face as the object of his search alluded him.

"I must admit I am rather… _disappointed_ that she is not here."

He looked more than disappointed—he looked like her absence had totally rained on his parade.

"Visiting your 'cousins' in Alaska is she?" Aro unexpectedly asked, obviously trying to prod Carlisle into revealing her mysterious location.

I flinched as I imagined the slightly-crazy vampire forgetting all about the hybrid pregnancy I was carrying in favor of trying to obtain her gift for his arsenal. I pictured him dashing back out to the driveway, hopping in his Ferrari, and speeding off towards Denali to see her.

Alice wasn't there, but if she had been, there was no telling what the scarily polite, power-hungry vampire might do.

It wasn't in Aro's nature to compel people who had not broken any laws into obedience with violence. Corporal punishment was reserved exclusively for criminals.

And Alice would see his decision to come for her, and run for it as soon as she did. So it was unlikely they would cross paths again anyway.

But given the fact that Aro had had five months to consider his next move. And his thousands of years of tactical manipulation had to have given him and incredibly sharp mind. I was certain he had some kind of dastardly plan...

"Alice did not say where she was going," Carlisle answered at last with a heavy sigh.

He sounded merely exasperated with Aro's acquisitive behavior, like the elder vampire was annoyingly trying to collect porcelain teacups, rather than recruit his adoptive daughter for the vampire police force. I guess Carlisle was more used to this kind of covetous behavior from Aro than I was, and less worried about Alice's abilities to circumvent it.

"Nor do I have any idea why she left," the doctor concluded firmly, as if to stem all further questions about our psychic friend. "She didn't say."

Aro processed this information with a deep scowl before he exhaled in resignation. "That is a pity…" he lamented. He twiddled his thumbs guiltily, as though he was well aware that Alice was avoiding him specifically, and that fact pierced his heart. "I had hoped that her gift would shed some light on this situation…"

"As did I. Though she cannot see Bella's future anymore." Carlisle shrugged as if to say her absence was meaningless since her sight was negated anyway.

Aro's eyebrows lifted high on his pallid forehead. "Interesting," he breathed with evident surprise. He turned to stare voraciously at my stomach again, astonished that the baby within it could repel such a potent force as Alice's powers.

"The infant shares the immunity of your shape-shifting friends, then," he concluded rationally.

Carlisle blinked a few times in shock as he processed what Aro was saying. "…I had not considered it from that angle, but yes, the fetus is blocked from her sight in very much the same fashion. Perhaps… that is a sign of the unborn's karyotype…?"

"The wolves have twenty-four pairs, you said?" Aro asked to clarify.

It stunned me that Aro was able to keep up with the modern scientific terminology Carlisle was using so effortlessly. It made me wonder how frequently the two really did converse. If Aro already knew what Carlisle had only just discovered when he'd patched Jacob up after the fight with the newborns—that the werewolves down in La Push had twenty-four chromosome pairs—they must have spoken sometime in late June.

However, judging by Aro's reaction over the phone, Carlisle had missed at least one of their regular calls….

But it was only August now. _Are they really close enough to speak to each other on a monthly basis?_ I wondered.

"That is correct," Carlisle verified. He then reached for the manila folder he'd deposited on the shiny glass coffee table and rifled through it until he found the page he was looking for. He held it aloft towards Aro.

Aro greedily snatched up the paper as soon as it was presented to him. His eyes flickered over the pictures and words so quickly I momentarily worried that he was having a stroke or something. Until I recalled that he could probably read a hundred times faster than I could with his inhuman processing time.

After only a few seconds, Aro returned the sheet to Carlisle and floated back over the creamy white carpet to fill my blurry vision. His bright red eyes were scraping over me again with that strange hungry look that made me fear that Edward's assertions were true—that Aro would decide to make me into his dinner, despite the fact that he had recently just ate.

"Ah… there is so much to discover!" Aro marveled as he slowly drew closer to me. He gauged the other's reactions as he went, to make sure that they were content with his increased proximity to me.

"What a truly riveting story to add to my histories!" he exclaimed in elation. He clapped his hands together in excitement once again as he stared down at the enormous bulge protruding from my otherwise scrawny frame. Then his eyes unexpectedly flicked back up to my face. "If… you would allow me to record this… that is…" he added with a sudden hesitancy that bewildered me.

Whatever the imposing man chose to write in his dusty journals back home was completely out of my control and of little consequence to me. It wasn't as if Aro could actually publish anything he wrote anyway.

But nonetheless he seemed to feel as though he required my permission to write down this implausible tale. And so after an awkward pause I gave it to him in the form of a shaky, tight-lipped nod.

"Excellent," Aro whispered across my cheek, which was now only a few inches from his chilly lips. "Though… the account would be more complete if I could see your side of the story, dear Bella…" he pondered aloud with twitching fingers.

His eyes wandered between the other Cullens and myself as if looking for any dissent with his suggestion. "Would you mind indulging me again?" he asked politely, holding out a single upturned palm for me to take or leave according to my own discretion.

He wanted to try and see my thoughts again, I realized, as I looked down at his flawless porcelain hand.

But I was fairly assured that this time would not be any different from the last. There had been no exceptions to my immunity to Edward. So I had no fear towards the idea of offering Aro another chance to touch me, because I didn't believe there was any real threat of having my privacy invaded.

In fact, I only hesitated for a second, surveying the tense expressions of the vampires around me, before I reached out with a weak, atrophied arm to seize the appendage Aro was graciously offering to me. His skin was surprisingly soft, compared to Edward's. And as he swept one of my bony hands into his grasp and bent over them, his movements were impeccably gentle.

Esme tensed at my side as his granite flesh collided with mine. She was prepared to come to my defense if Aro overstepped his bounds or caused me any sort of harm whatsoever.

But in that moment I felt like I was in the opposite of danger. I almost released an audible sigh as Aro smoothly caressed my skin. The tender sensations were making me feel oddly tingly all over. And my baby finally decided to stop tumbling around inside me as my brain registered the amazing experience of Aro's cool touch.

Unfortunately, it was over all too fast when my esophagus—so dry from puking all the time—forced me to cough.

This unfortunately caused Aro to stop and draw back from my skin as if burned. The sudden absence of his soft ministrations was jarring. And almost immediately, my baby was thrashing hurtfully again, as though he was eager for me to fall back into Aro's comforting embrace for some strange reason.

"Still nothing," Aro whispered in awe. His hands fell to his sides and his ravenous eyes met mine again. "You truly are an enigma, dearest Bella."

I nodded with pursed lips to hide my pain. And I ducked slightly behind Esme, my hollow cheeks flaming red from his unwarranted flattery.

He had said the words with such reverence, like my impenetrable mind was a characteristic worthy of a goddess, and he was my loyal devotee. But once again the real reason for his worshipful attitude completely eluded me. And consequently I felt rather sour about being praised. I couldn't shake the thought that he was only trying to impress me for his own dark ends, even though he had sounded one-hundred-percent non-threatening.

 _What could Aro possibly gain from showering me in compliments?_ I wondered. _Did he really crave my "power" if this strange anomaly of mine could be called that?_ I doubted it.

I tensed slightly and reached for Esme's strong, matriarchal arm as Aro oh-so-gradually drifted forward to follow my path. His eyes constantly flickered back and forth as he moved as if searching for the others' approval to be near me again. And his feet were ready to halt at the tiniest sign of discord.

 _Or is this still about Alice?_ I worried as Aro moved closer. His eyes churned with an unreadable emotion as they took in my undernourished body again. _He seems very excited and not at all threatened by my baby at the moment… But what it that's all fake too?_ I started to panic. _What if he only wants to help me because he_ _hopes that by getting on my good side, it will help him secure better ties with her?_

After a few seconds of cowering behind Esme, however, my space to worry about such things was shattered as Aro finally slipped behind Esme as well, his handsome figure filling my vision again.

Aro's fingertips tapped together anxiously as he gazed down at me from where he stood, only inches away.

Utterly without warning, Aro's chilly fingers rose to travel finely over the sunken contours of my cheeks. His heavenly touch made the blood beneath them flare hotter and burn under his skillful hands.

"Please know that I mean no insult by this," he prefaced while he stroked my face. "But you look as dreadful as you sound, my dear," he observed sorrowfully. "This… wasting away is not a healthy pregnancy symptom. Whatever is the matter?" he asked with deep concern as he lifted away from my flushed skin. His hands fell to grasp mine and shook them as if imploring me to answer him.

The insistence in Aro's grasp was overwhelming. Such a vigorous gesture obviously obligated a response. But I had no idea what say—Aro looked so desperate for a hopeful answer. But the truth was that we had only contacted him because we'd effectively ran out of hope. He was our last resort.

But I couldn't tell him that. Not when the pleading look in his eyes told me that truth would devastate him. So, uncomfortably and silently I ducked out of Aro's hands, wishing that Carlisle or someone else would enlighten him as to the severity of my situation.

But to my utter mortification, the little infant growing inside me chose that moment, while I shied away from Aro's daunting presence, to stab into my abdomen with a very hard kick to the left. The force of the blow caused me to lose my balance as I crouched, (especially since the legs supporting me now were skeletally-thin). And with a hoarse cry of distress, I nearly crumpled to the floor in an ungainly heap behind Carlisle's beautiful wife.

Nearly, that is, because someone had noticed my fall and caught me in their strong arms at the very last second.

The fingers I felt suddenly splayed across my back and holding up my spidery legs felt very secure. Like steel girders ready to weather the worst earthquake of the century without the slightest wobble. But their grip on me was not at all crushing. No, somehow the clutches of the one who had caught me were just as feathery as Aro's voice. So I wasn't entirely surprised when I blinked my eyes open and discovered that he was the one who had prevented me from stupidly wounding myself.

I wasn't completely sure I was _emotionally_ comfortable with the idea of being held by him. The way he cradled me in his arms was almost eerily dainty. Like he was holding a woman made of soap bubbles rather than a solid human body. And that fact made made me worry again about his unknown motivations for caring about me so much.

But for some reason I knew in that moment that I was completely _physically_ safe.

Intellectually, of course, I knew that as I lied in his powerful clutches, that Aro had the capability to quickly end my life in a variety of traumatic ways. A thought that made me shiver. But as I looked up into his bright red eyes—eyes which shone with deep concern as they scanned my body for injuries—I knew that even if it made absolutely no sense to me at all, Aro would rather trade his left arm than allow me to be harmed. I meant that much to him.

Everyone else in the room, however didn't look very convinced.

As they processed that I hadn't smacked the floor, but instead was resting bridal-style in Aro's arms, the worry they'd worn on their faces as they had watched me go down twisted into something darker. It contorted from fear and surprise to a deep suspicion. Specifically a suspicion that Aro intended to do something malicious with me now that he had me in a rather convenient position.

A convenient position for _what_ , I wasn't sure. Certainly I was close enough to Aro's teeth for him to cause irreparable damage long before my bodyguards could save me. But as Aro shielded against his lean chest, I knew dinner was the furthest thing from his mind.

My heart-rate skyrocketed as I saw the three Cullens narrow their eyes critically towards Aro's personage. I was terrified that they might decide to pounce on him for daring to touch me while I was still safely tucked in his strong arms.

But just as I started to imagine the painful outcome of such an action, immediately my baby started kicking even harder in response to all the ambient stress accumulating in the room. The little flails of my son now were a lot stronger than before. This was probably in part because my belly had been placed flush with Aro's defined stomach. I guess my little nudger found the unyielding skin beyond mine extremely fascinating. Because it felt like he was trying to discover if the sturdy substance would move with enough force.

Tears streamed freely over my cheeks at the effort it took not to scream in pain. But each blow smarted like a new sprain. So it was impossible to stay silent for long.

"Ugh! Ow!" I finally relented as the baby kicked against us. The jabs caused Aro's eyes to flicker anxiously down to my belly as it relentlessly bopped against his practically indestructible body.

"Yikes! Baby that hurts!" I cried out, clutching my swollen baby bump in pain.

When Aro registered that I was in distress, his face rapidly turned panicked. At once he flitted back to the couch with me in hand to give me a more comfortable place to rest. There, he lied me gently against the downy beige cushions, like I was a priceless gem he was settling oh-so-carefully into its jewelry box.

Upon determining that I was in a comfortable position, he made to pull back. But he stopped when he noticed I was shivering violently.

I shivered because I lacked the necessary body fat to keep me warm, and his wintry hands were sucking out all the heat I'd stored up earlier.

But Aro didn't appear interested in what had caused my shivering, only in alleviating it.

Without so much as a word, he quickly fetched the pile of blankets resting on the floor and tenderly stretched them over me, layer by layer until I was positively smothered in warm, soft cloth. I blushed as he tucked me in and was once again dumbfounded by his display of compassion. I was deeply flattered that a man who didn't even deem most vampires worthy of his personal audience, would stoop to perform servile tasks in order to bring a small measure of comfort to a human.

I almost wanted to ask him to stop as he uncharacteristically knelt on the floor beside the couch and devotedly wrapped me up in a cocoon of fluffiness. This was a job he would most definitely delegate to his human servants had I been visiting him, rather than the other way around. It looked so wrong to watch him perform it.

But he looked so dedicated to the endeavor and so happy to be able to help me. So I shut my mouth, sank back into the heap of warm blankets, and decided to save my words for something else.

The Cullens relaxed a little as they realized that Aro was simply seeing to it that I was sufficiently warm and comfy. Though they hardened again when Aro completed his task and politely asked if he could have Carlisle's permission to sit on the opposite couch.

Vampires didn't need to sit, of course, so I thought the request was a little odd. At least until I realized that Aro must think it would be awkward for them to all converse on their feet about me while I laid down.

I smiled. He was being considerate. He wanted us all to be more or less on the same level.

After a brief consultation with his wife, Carlisle agreed. And Aro reluctantly moved to leave my side and take a seat on the other sofa.

I decided to huddle up my legs a little to provide a space for him to sit beside me. I weakly patted the spot with my hand to more clearly indicate my meaning. Rosalie, my usual protector, was curiously still nowhere to be seen, (probably still obliviously fiddling with her makeup upstairs). So I figured that it couldn't hurt to have Aro take her place if he really was as committed as he appeared to keeping me safe.

And if his real plan was to lull me into a false sense of security and murder me in my sleep, then there was really nothing I could do to stop him anyway.

But I was really starting to trust what Aro had said earlier… that he didn't want to hurt me. In fact my life seemed extremely important to him. So keeping him close by would actually be a smart move in that case…

Aro's eyebrows nearly shot off his face with astonished glee as he comprehended what I was doing as I motioned toward the empty spot I had cleared. He eagerly seated himself atop the creamy cushion I'd saved for him like it was the best place to sit in the entire world. And as he moved into position, he rubbed his hands together ecstatically and beamed like I had just given him the best birthday present ever.

This almost made me rethink my decision... (I didn't want to be just another token in his collection, after all)…

…that is, until Esme, Carlisle, and Emmett stopped looking concerned about my current arrangement beside Aro, determining that he meant me no harm.

I trusted their judgement. So I decided to relax as the other vampires moved to sit on the other couches, which were set in a square around Esme's prized glass coffee table.

Aro turned towards Carlisle and Esme, who were sitting uncomfortably still on the opposite couch. He looked at them with a serious expression.

"The infant is exceptionally strong," Aro remarked, making it clear that he wished to launch into an in-depth discussion of what ought to be done about my child. "It definitely takes after its father in that regard…" he commented rather acridly.

Aro twisted his dark-haired head back towards me. "You are sure…" he inquired a little uneasily, "…that Edward is the father… yes?" His eyes were searching again and his hands fluttered fretfully in his lap as his melodious syllables dripped off his tongue.

I swallowed uncomfortably—it was an awkward question. Especially coming from one of the three leaders of the Volturi. I really didn't like that he was needling into the details of my sex-life, but I understood that in this situation it was extremely necessary. The most mundane explanation for my purportedly impossible pregnancy was simply that I'd had an affair with a human, or some other obviously fertile creature like the Quileute shape-shifters. And although I normally would have felt offended that Aro didn't trust my faithfulness to my husband, because this matter involved my baby, I refrained from accusing him in this instance, and simply answered his question.

"Yes," I hacked with much difficulty. "I've only ever had…" I blushed, very uncomfortable with saying the word 'sex' aloud with Aro here. "...you know…with him."

Aro didn't seemed fazed at all by my dodging of the bullet and simply nodded in comprehension. The tension in his aristocratic features eased slightly as he understood that I had only crossed that particular bridge with one man. That I wasn't some wanton woman who would throw herself into a stranger's bed right after getting married. Or a victim of sexual assault—the only other thing I knew of that could get me pregnant with someone else's baby.

My hand suddenly flew to my stomach again. And I yelped in pain as another hard kick jabbed me in the belly.

"How badly is the child hurting you?" Aro asked next, scooting protectively next to me. "Is the babe… breaking your bones, my dear?" he probed in a soft, tremulous voice like the idea terrified him.

He reached to stroke my lower legs gently. His hand glided atop the momentous heap of blankets instead of slipping beneath them so that he didn't accidentally transfer too much of his natural coldness to me. I was struggling to stay warm as it was.

My son stilled within me in response to Aro's touch.

"No," I coughed. "Just bruises."

I was doing my best to downplay my injuries, because I hoped that would help convince Aro that keeping my baby alive was an acceptable option. If he cared for me a much as he appeared to, and he believed my son was a significant endangerment to my health… I could only imagine that he would eventually come to the same conclusions that Edward had. That the baby needed to die in order for me to live.

And having the Volturi sanction the abortion of my baby was the last thing I needed.

"Really, I'm fine," I pathetically tried to assure him… though the cough which punctuated my words wasn't very convincing.

I tensed as his penetrating gaze slid back down to my stomach and his face warped into the strangest combination of worry and curiosity.

Aro stared at my belly in wonderment for a long moment before his head unexpectedly flicked back upwards. His long, lustrous black hair sailed around him in response. Then he cautiously asked, "May I see?"

Esme looked like she wanted to say something in protest. But before she could fully open her lips to speak, I pushed the pile of blankets Aro had wrapped me in down to my hips. Then I yanked back the cottony fabric of my shirt to reveal my stomach to him, as per request.

I didn't even stop to think about how strange it was that I was baring my pregnant belly to a man I had only met twice. At least, until Aro's eyes glittered in a way that made me feel exposed as I raised the hem of my shirt.

And for a moment I almost forgot I wasn't wearing a bra—none of the ones I had packed for my honeymoon fit right anymore and I definitely didn't share Rosalie's generous cup size. Thankfully Aro's intensifying gaze as the fabric crept higher made me remember at the last second. So I made sure not to raise my shirt too high.

Aro had only asked to see my baby-bump. He probably wouldn't appreciate getting flashed…

When I stopped raising my shirt, the man sitting beside me gasped in shock. My bare, black and purple spotted skin greeted his eyes.

"Oh my dear Bella…" Aro breathed mournfully as he witnessed the damage that my innocent little boy had wrought.

Instinctively, Aro's hand reached out to touch the ghastly sight. As if to make sure that it was indeed real. And he almost made contact, before he recalled that such a brazen action would likely not be appreciated. Then he drew back.

I had anticipated his touch, however. So I found myself bizarrely disappointed as he shrunk from resting his fingers against my baby-bump.

Of course, judging by the way he was staring at my swollen flesh, and knowing that he was Aro—the man who knew no personal space boundaries—I knew he would probably ask for permission to touch my belly in just a few seconds. So I went ahead and beat him to the punch.

"Go ahead," I urged him.

Aro's head shot up at my words. And his eyebrows looked ready to jump off his face.

The other vampires in the room mirrored his astounded expression.

"Are you sure, dearest Bella?" Aro asked carefully. He lowered his hand incrementally; experimentally towards my belly as he spoke, ready to retract it at the slightest sign of my discomfort. "I do not wish to make you uncomfortable…"

"Yes. I'm sure."

This caused the speed of Aro's descending hand to rapidly increase. He was obviously enthused to make contact.

But his sudden pickup in speed frightened me a bit.

"I mean… just be careful, okay?"

Aro immediately paused in response to my specification. "Of course," he softly agreed before he resumed his first hand's decent in a much slower fashion.

Everyone else in the room froze. And I tried not to hyperventilate as Aro's hand splayed itself across my darkly marred skin. But for some reason Aro's proximity was as dazzling as it was deadly.

I forgot to breathe as the pads of his long, slender fingers brushed against my belly with incredible gentleness. His touch was something that I felt like I could melt into. And for a split second all my fears of Aro wanting to harm my child fled my mind as he rubbed my stomach delicately.

I was abruptly reminded of my paranoia however, when Aro suddenly gasped, and his other hand flew to my belly. I bristled under the unexpected contact. And I was about to cry out in distress as both hands tightened slightly on my flesh.

For a horrifying moment, I thought that the powerful man intended to tear my child out of my womb with his bare hands.

But just as quickly as I panicked, Aro raised his head level with mine. And an enormous cheek-splitting smile erupted across his face.

"Miraculous!" Aro exclaimed joyfully. His eyes were faraway, as though looking at something beyond this room. But his hands didn't move from where they rested on my belly. "I was not certain that this would work, given your immunity…" he started to explain.

And suddenly, I began to piece everything together.

My immunity to his powers. His powers—hearing every thought with one touch. He's touching the baby. He wasn't sure it would work… _Oh my god._

"Holy cow! You can _hear_ him?!" I screeched piercingly in disbelief. I stared down at my belly and the two pale hands reverently cupping it in wonder. M _y baby already had thoughts that Aro could hear?_

"Shh, yes I can Isabella," Aro whispered beautifully. His eyes locked with mine, shimmering with awe as if he was just as amazed and excited by this fact as I was.

After a moment, his head dipped again toward my baby. "But you have frightened the child with your voice," Aro revealed softly. He then rubbed the bluish bulge beneath his fingers adoringly and made quiet sound that almost resembled cooing.

Though it couldn't be, I told myself. Aro wasn't supposed to coo at anything. Not even an apparently adorable hybrid infant whose mind had just been opened to him. Being reduced to a totally nonthreatening, blubbering baby-lover wasn't supposed to happen to one of the leaders of the Volturi.

But nonetheless, Aro continued to make tiny murmuring sounds, his voice lilted in baby-talk as he lathered my son in quiet assurances. "Everything will be alright my little one. No one is going to harm you. I will see to it that you have every comfort…"

It was surreal.

I seriously doubted that Aro's depth of feeling for my son went nearly as far as mine, since the ancient had only known him for a few seconds. Nevertheless, Aro seemed instantly enamored with my offspring to a level that astonished me. The way he was beaming and muttering lulling words towards my swollen stomach as he caressed it with such evident devotion was the way I had thought Edward, the father, was supposed to react. Not this power-hungry stranger.

After a few seconds of listening to Aro promise to look after my baby, sounding almost just as enthralled by my baby as I was, I uneasily asked, "My voice scares him?"

Aro raised his eyes to gaze into mine. "No. He... or she…" he added, to make sure that I knew that my child's thoughts didn't reveal anything regarding their mysterious biological sex, "…rather likes the sound of your voice. Just not at that particular volume…" he clarified.

Oh. I guess I had kinda screamed…

"I'm sorry baby," I mumbled. I weakly patted the top of my stomach, above where Aro was still holding it between his potent hands. "I didn't mean to scare you… " I said towards my child, my face warm with what I could only imagine was a brilliant motherly glow.

After my words, Aro returned to his previous activity of staring penetratingly into my abdomen. Like he believed that if his eyes bore into me long enough that the growing infant beneath would be revealed to him.

Carlisle unnecessarily cleared his throat in order to bring us out of our happy little baby-love-bubble. "The child has thought?" His eyes flickered interestedly down toward my black-smeared belly and the four hands now adoringly splayed across it, one pair mortal and one immortal.

"And you can hear it?" he directed dubiously towards his friend, Aro. "Despite Bella's… silence of the mind?"

"Indeed I can." Aro raised his head to confirm and gave a resolute nod. "The child only has indistinct neural impulses at this point. Instincts mostly—not the true depth of feeling of a fully developed person quite yet," he academically expanded, lifting one his hands momentarily from where it rested above my womb to gesture as he spoke.

"But he or she can feel love, fear, curiosity, and…" Aro trailed off.

His brow furrowed in concerned concentration. Then his other hand returned to my stomach as he tried to process precisely what feeling was emanating from the unborn hybrid resting beneath his cool fingertips.

"… _Hunger_ …" Aro purred out at last, in a voice that sounded exceptionally ravenous. His tongue instinctively flicked out to wet his lips after the word rolled off it.

Aro's face darkened with worry again. "Oh my, the infant is famished!" he cried. His hands jerked back from my belly as if the sensations he was feeling through my child's thoughts were physically painful.

The sudden absence of Aro's touch was once again, extremely off-putting. But I was too caught up in following Aro's words—his grave declaration that my poor baby shared the pain of my starvation to care.

It was bad enough that I was slowly dying. But for my innocent little angel to have to endure the agony of withering away as well…. That was simply heartbreaking.

"Carlisle's done everything he can…" Emmett tried to reassure Aro from his position on the couch ninety-degrees to our left.

But as soon as Emmett mentioned the name of the Cullen coven's founder, Aro's bright red eyes widened to the size of silver-dollars. Like something important had just clicked in his brain.

In the next instant Aro whirled around in his seat before gracefully leaping off the couch. He landed only a few inches away from Carlisle, his whole lean musculature tensed and quivering furiously.

I couldn't see Aro's face from the angle I was at. And I was too stunned by his sudden movement to twist into a better position to appraise the situation. But from the way the younger vampire recoiled before him and looked positively petrified, I figured Aro's expression was livid.

"I _warned you_ that your lifestyle would have consequences, Carlisle!" Aro snarled venomously. His hands clenched and unclenched violently at his sides.

Suddenly, Aro jabbed a finger towards my hollow cheeks and bony body. "Look at her!" he hissed.

The sharpness of his voice caused my baby to tremor fearfully inside me. And the fact that everyone was staring at me now made me extremely self-conscious. So I sought to shroud myself in heavy blankets again, pulling my shirt back down over my belly before I did so.

"Clearly that _disgusting_ substance you drink is not enough for her and the child!" Aro spat. He flicked a hand towards Carlisle's dark butterscotch eyes to indicate his meaning. "Or are you blind to the fact that she and her child are _starving_?" he shot accusatorily, before again sweeping a hand in my direction that made me want to cringe.

"What?" Carlisle and I both called out in confusion at the same time.

 _Why on earth was Aro talking about "vegetarianism" all of a sudden? I was still human for crying out loud! So why did he think I shared Carlisle's diet?_


	6. Chapter 6: Solutions

**AN: First off I want to thank everyone who has taken time to give me a review for this story. I have probably already said it before, but they're very inspiring and I do a little happy dance every time I get one. You guys are awesome!**

 **Oh and just for reference's sake here's the one quote I could find directly from Aro in New Moon about his opinions on Carlisle's diet. He's talking to Edward in this instance after he's read the boy's thoughts.**

"I am gratified by his [Carlisle's] success," Aro mused. "Your memories of him are quite a gift for me, thought they astonish me exceedingly. I am surprised by how it… _pleases_ me, his success in this unorthodox path he has chosen. I expected that he would waste, weaken with time. I scoffed at his plan to find others who would share his peculiar vision. Yet, somehow, I am happy to be wrong." – New Moon, Chapter 21

 **I've read this quote over and over** ** _way_** **too many times reading way too much into it. His words make me suspect that Aro had legitimate reasons for worrying that Carlisle would waste away (he's not just paranoid of anything untraditional) and even though that fear turned out to not come to fruition, those reasons still keep him firmly rooted in… err… eating people. ;) The way I approach the diet topic in this fic is going to be a lot closer to canon than my other works, but I've always been interested in fleshing out the motives for vampires like Aro persist in drinking from humans. "It tastes better" is not a legitimate argument in my mind.**

 **Maybe the cruelest of people would see that as ample justification, but I don't picture Aro that way.**

 **And…. On with the show!**

* * *

…

 _With regard to healing the sick,_

 _I will devise and order for them the best diet,_

 _according to my judgment and means…_

 _\- Original Version of the Hippocratic Oath_

…

CHAPTER SIX: SOLUTIONS

"If you'd only told me that malnutrition was her ailment over the phone!" Aro ranted on. He labored to keep his voice at a non-frightening volume for the sake of my baby. Though it was proving rather difficult with how infuriated he had become.

"How many times must I remind you that animal blood is nutritionally insufficient before you actually _listen_ to me?" he shrieked at Carlisle.

Aro raised his hands to his head like he was ready to pull his hair out in frustration.

The doctor cringed as he saw this.

I too, jumped a little at the terrifying sight.

And my little boy started tumbling around fitfully inside my belly once again as Aro continued to yell utter nonsense.

"Will you persist in this… _folly_ of yours even when the evidence of its inadequacy is sitting so plainly before you?" Aro demanded, bewildering the both of us, once again, with his furious words.

 _Why bring up this totally irrelevant, age-old argument now?_ I wondered.

Based on his comments when I'd met him back in Volterra, I got the impression that Aro wasn't _too_ upset that Carlisle had chosen a path in life that suited the doctor's gentle nature. Of course it was something that the ancient himself would never endorse for reasons I didn't really understand. As a human, the subtler nuances of vampire health were lost on me. And Edward's words about animal blood being like "tofu" and "not being fully satisfied" when he drank it really didn't resonate with me yet.

But I figured, from the way Aro had teased Carlisle about hunting humans over the phone, that they must have agreed to disagree on the matter a long time ago. And so Aro's current behavior—growling like a feral tiger, and making ridiculous insinuations that my health was somehow in jeopardy from Carlisle's dietary choices—didn't make any sense.

 _Were we missing something here? Was there any logic behind Aro's remarks?_ Or had the slightly maniacal ruler finally snapped after three thousand years and gone completely insane?

After a few moments of leaning back from the livid creature before him, Carlisle decided that he couldn't stand the angry vibes any longer. He suddenly rose from his position on the opposite couch. And his handsome, six-foot-two frame towered over the shorter man while he tried his best to civilly diffuse the situation.

"Wait, Aro… please calm down," Carlisle begged. He lowered both of his hands in an appeasing gesture.

This seemed to relax the most haywire of the ancient's frazzled nerves.

Carlisle continued softly in a placating tone. "We're here to talk about Bella's well-being… not mine…" He ducked his head a little as he referenced his own condition in a way that surprised me.

 _Was Carlisle really conceding that Aro was partially correct in his criticisms?_ I pondered as I observed the odd gesture. _I had always assumed that Aro's reactions were completely paranoid… I mean… there was no way that Carlisle was negatively impacted living as a "vegetarian" right?_ I tried to reassure myself. _I certainly hadn't seen it…_

"And regardless, my decisions..." Carlisle placed a hand over his unbeating heart "...have no bearing whatsoever on Bella's present condition."

Hearing this, Aro abruptly lost his aura of fury. He quirked a single eyebrow in a befuddled arch.

"Of course they do," Aro rebutted succinctly, though completely without ire now. Instead he sounded a little confused all of a sudden, like the connection ought to be obvious.

"That's what you've been feeding the child yes?" Aro directed a hand towards my stomach. "Mountain lions and grizzly bears…" he trailed off as he registered the totally blank looks of incomprehension in Carlisle's and my eyes.

The other black eyebrow on Aro's face rocketed upwards to join its twin as he began to realize that we were not on the same page—that we were completely lost as to how his recent tirade was pertinent to my starvation.

As Aro mulled over what our bafflement must mean, he floated back a few steps from Esme and Carlisle, his mind swirling tempestuously with unreadable thoughts.

Emmett narrowed his thick brows in concentration as he too tried to puzzle this out.

Esme flickered a compassionate glance in my direction while I bit my tongue to keep myself from crying out in pain.

Aro's face grew increasingly horrified with each passing moment.

And Carlisle settled back into his seat, resting his chin ponderously over his interlocked hands.

There was a pregnant pause as the vampires in the room analyzed each other's words. And gratefully, the silence wore on long enough that my darling little kicker decided all was well, and resumed a restful position within my battered womb.

With my mind no longer completely absorbed in the task of stopping myself from screaming, I was able to watch it all unfold. To watch the four immortals' faces warp with emotion as they began to piece together—without bothering to tell me—what was really going on here.

After a few minutes of thinking it over, Esme's warm golden eyes were wide with shock.

At the same time, Emmett's nose was scrunched and twisted in disgust.

Aro looked simultaneously paralytic with fear, and deeply remorseful.

And Carlisle progressively opened his mouth wider in the shape of an "o" as the reasons for Aro's irate outburst finally dawned on him.

Unexpectedly, the doctor buried his head in his hands like he felt like the biggest idiot in the universe. "…Of course," he sighed, before lifting his sleek blonde hair out of his palms.

His exhalation garnered the full attention of everyone in the room.

Carlisle nervously scratched the back of his neck. He looked pointedly at the floor to avoid Aro's disproving gaze. "I hadn't even considered the needs of the fetus…" he admitted a little sheepishly. "I was so focused on getting Bella her proper nutrition I did not even stop to think that she might require different accommodations because of the nature of what she carries…"

Carlisle pressed his fingers into his temples as a visual demonstration that he'd been rather tunnel-visioned in his approach. "But that makes so much sense," he said before he finally looked up at the petrified vampire hovering a few steps away from him.

But Aro didn't move a muscle as Carlisle gazed upon his frozen form—he didn't even blink. Like Edward, when he'd first discovered that I was pregnant, Aro had completely turned to stone. He didn't give the slightest indication that he was still living.

"Her body has been reacting much like one of ours would to human food…" Carlisle trailed off.

Aro finally unstiffened as he heard the parallels Carlisle was drawing between myself and vampirekind. He audibly choked. "You mean to tell me you have been trying to sustain her only on _human food_? No blood at all?"

His voice was utterly incredulous, like the idea of attempting to feed me—the person he kept forgetting was still mortal _—_ chicken broth and salty crackers was the most unthinkably stupid thing he had ever heard.

Carlisle winced as he felt the sting behind his friend's question. He dropped his head in his hands again and lamented, "Not a drop. I had no idea, I…"

Now it was Aro's turn to sigh, sounding exasperated.

And then, utterly without warning, Aro lifted Carlisle's chin tenderly with one hand. Then stroked it between his thumb and forefinger.

Esme and I both tensed as we watched Aro suddenly make physical contact for the first time in centuries. We were all-too-aware of the huge violation of privacy this handling of Carlisle entailed. And we were both a little jarred that Aro had neglected to ask for permission first.

But surprisingly, Carlisle himself made no indication that he was uncomfortable with Aro's unexpected caress, nor its intrusive implications. In fact, Carlisle seemed to find considerable comfort in the dark-haired man's touch. He leaned into it and looked apologetically into the elder vampire's eyes, hopeful that Aro's gesture meant that he had not committed an unpardonable offense.

The intimacy of their interaction unsettled me, especially give the fact that any physical contact with Aro came with a price—a price that had it been possible, I would be completely unwilling to pay. I could only guess that Carlisle believed he could earn his friend's forgiveness, once Aro saw his thoughts. It was the only reason for such _close_ behavior with the formidable vampire that made any sense.

At least, until Carlisle appeared to issue a silent question, which received a small nod in answer from Aro. And a relieved smile—a smile brighter than I had ever seen before—spread across the doctor's flawless face.

Carlisle's joyous expression betrayed the true depth of their friendship. And suddenly his enthusiastic response to Aro's mind-probing touch was put in perspective for me. Carlisle was just desperate to make sure that their relationship had not been destroyed by recent strife.

Aro's own lips quirked a bit in reciprocation. Then his alabaster eyelids fluttered shut in order to focus on the rest of his friend's centuries-worth of thoughts.

After a few seconds, Aro drew back from Carlisle's flawless skin. Instantly, his face became overshadowed with worry again.

"You mistake is understandable, given your background in human medicine," Aro allowed as he drifted gracefully away from his friend. "But we must remedy it immediately." He urgently pounded one fist against the palm of his other hand like a judicial gavel. "Her condition appears to be _extremely_ severe. Worse than I had ever feared…" he mourned, his voice cracking with emotion at the end.

Aro whirled dramatically on his inky black heels to face me. To once again look upon the drastic signs of my malnutrition for himself.

As his bright red irises flicked worriedly over my bony frame I couldn't help but feel a little terrified. Not because I was worried that Aro was going to harm me or my baby. As much as it baffled me, his gleeful reaction to my offspring, and his fervent desire to see that I was given the best care, had assured me _that_ wasn't going to happen.

But because, based on the direction of his conversation, I feared Aro might insist that I needed to do something unpleasant.

 _Was he really insinuating what I thought? That the reason I was starving was because my baby didn't want normal food but was thirsty for human blood?_ I pondered anxiously. _As Edward's baby that would make sense… But how were we going to get it to my son? More needles?_

I cringed.

 _Or… Would Aro make me drink it?_ I wanted to gag at the thought purely on principle. I was still human, so I was fairly certain drinking human blood counted as cannibalism _. There's no way I'm doing that!_

Though, based on Aro's agonized expression, I severely doubted he would accept no for an answer. Regardless of my visceral reaction towards such an act.

Of course, given the gentle way Aro handled me up to this point I couldn't image he would shove it down my throat, if I refused. But he could be very persuasive if he wanted to be.

As I considered what I might say to dissuade him, I suddenly thought of something else. _But what if drinking human blood helps my baby?_

I gulped uncomfortably. If _human blood is what my baby requires…_ _then I will swallow it… irrespective of whether that makes me a cannibal or not,_ I decided. _I will do anything to protect my son, no matter how gross._

And besides… once I was transformed—which was inevitable at this point—I would be drinking _some kind_ of blood anyway….

So I should at least try it.

As soon as I had made this pivotal decision, however, Aro shook his head sorrowfully again. Then, looking at Carlisle, he broke the heavy silence with hearty sigh. "I truly do wish you would have informed that starvation was her ailment before I left Seattle."

The elder vampire's tone suggested it would have been much more convenient for him to have known this while he was still there. This confused me, for I saw nothing he could have done to benefit me in the distant, bustling city.

I was only given half a second to puzzle over that though, before Aro rapidly zipped across the room. In the blink of an eye, he opened the white entrance door. And before any of us could properly react, he was already halfway outside.

Aro paused momentarily in the doorway. "I will return to fetch her someone to drink immediately," he announced with absolutely no room for argument. Then he made to hop back into his luxury vehicle and do precisely that.

I gaped in horror as I realized what Aro wanted to do. _He was going to kill some poor stranger and bring their fresh corpse back for me to drink from! Or worse, take a live hostage, drag them back to the house, and cut them open in front of me!_

Panic jolted down my spine at the thought. I was willing to drink human blood if that's what it took to help my son. But not like that!

And my terror only increased as I felt the unfamiliar sensation of my mouth _salivating_ at the thought of drinking directly from the veins of a fellow human. My mouth had never done _that_ when we had mentioned human food.

 _Was this was I had been craving all of this time?_ I considered frightfully. _It would make sense. Over the last two weeks everything red had started to look ludicrously delicious..._

Carlisle also panicked in that same instant, as we watched the ancient disappear from our sight. But he reacted much faster than I did. He leaped off the couch and dashed out the door after Aro while I simply gaped in horror.

Thanks to his incredible speed, Carlisle managed to catch Aro by the arm just before the black-haired vampire reached the red handle of his fancy vehicle.

"Aro! Wait!" I heard Carlisle shouting outside. He sounded just as horrified by the idea of Aro slaughtering a human being for my sake as I was. "There's no need for that!" he said, waving his hands frantically back and forth to convey his extreme aversion to the solution Aro was suggesting.

But Aro didn't appear convinced in the slightest. In fact, he opened the front door of his car and looked like he was about to get in.

"Surely you must know about my stash of O positive!" Carlisle panted desperately, almost saying the entire sentence as a single, jumbled word.

Upon hearing this, Aro abruptly froze. He slowly shut the driver-side door to his Ferrari and looked toward his friend with an intrigued expression.

Carlisle took a deep breath to calm himself, once he realized that Aro was going to hear him out. "I set aside some blood for Bella, in case her delivery goes wrong. We can use that, " he explained in a slower, but still slightly harried voice. "No one needs to die to test this theory," he added with particular forcefulness.

I found myself exhaling a hearty sigh of relief. There was another way to remedy my starvation—one that didn't necessitate anyone's death.

I was a little surprised by this, actually.

But I shouldn't have been.

As much as I wanted to believe that my son would be born the "normal way", thus far all of the legends, and Carlisle's medical expertise, suggested that was impossible. The hard membrane surrounding my baby—the bit I'd prodded when I'd first noticed I was pregnant—just wasn't conducive to a regular delivery. And since the only things really strong enough to pierce it were vampire teeth, a nice, relatively clean c-section was also out of the question.

My son would have to be "removed" by someone biting into my stomach and ripping it open.

This could either happen from the inside or out. If we waited too long, Carlisle believed my baby would carve his way out in desperation. I wasn't offended when the doctor had said that—unlike Edward, he wasn't trying to use that information as a sign that my child was 100% pure evil. He was only trying to be rational about this. And be prepared to administer the best medical care.

Carlisle also gave me a much higher chance of survival if an adult vampire on the outside did it. But even if we went about that ghastly procedure as carefully as we could, my son's birth was still practically guaranteed to be a traumatic experience. So of course Carlisle would have extra blood lying around in case he needed to give me transfusions after the "operation". It was the responsible thing to do, really.

How the other vampires had been kept unaware of it, judging by Emmett and Esme's surprised looks, I had no idea. Edward had always said that the smell of human blood was almost impossible to mask, especially to particularly thirsty vampires. But I decided that Carlisle must have installed a secret, air-tight safe somewhere. It was far from impossible in his enormous, labyrinth of a house.

"Ah… of course," Aro said in a tone that clearly illustrated that he had not considered the other possible usage of Carlisle's bagged blood, but evidently approved of the idea. "Pardon me for my hasty thinking," he apologized.

I watched with trepidation as Aro and the still slightly frightened-looking doctor stepped slowly back into the house. To my great relief Aro shut the door definitively behind them. A clear sign that he didn't intend to rush off to kill anyone anytime soon.

"It is not my intention to upset you," Aro assured Carlisle in a tranquil voice. His words were laced with deep, sincere regret for any possible offense. "Isabella's health is, however, my first priority…" he stipulated, oddly sounding a little nervous. He tapped his fingers together and stared at the perfectly polished toes of his boots like admitting as much amounted to a serious confession.

A confession of _what_ I wasn't sure. But clearly something momentous enough to make Carlisle tense up. And Esme inhale in discomfort, then glance worriedly in my direction.

I was very curious about the reasons behind their reactions. But I surmised it had more to do with Aro's complete disregard for human life than anything else. I figured that they were astonished that Aro was willing, because of his profound regard for me, to slaughter as many people as he needed to make certain that my baby and I would survive.

Strangely, I found it deeply flattering that he cared for me to such a drastic extent. I knew that Aro didn't mean to be macabre—in his mind what he was offering was about as morally significant as going to the grocery store. And even though I would have preferred him to offer to catch and kill an animal rather than a fellow human, his motivation to hunt for me would have remained the same either way. Vegetarian or not, Aro just wanted to make sure that my baby and I were healthy and safe.

Aro had probably just forgotten, in the heat of the moment, that Carlisle, Esme, Emmett and I would be traumatized when he returned with my "meal" in tow. Humans were just food to him after all. And as morbid as it was to consider, I doubted he regularly dealt with many vampires who thought otherwise.

But somehow (only heaven knew why) I had managed to get put on a different list in Aro's mind. One that made him want to bend over backwards for me and do all sorts of bizarre and dangerous things (like run back to Seattle without a bodyguard) for my benefit.

Which, in its own odd way, was really sweet. My baby thought so too… judging by the happy vibrations I thought I sensed coming from his direction.

But these bizarre feelings were accompanied by a sharp wave of hunger, a sudden reawakening of my appetite. A painful gnawing sensation rapidly filled my stomach. And in an instant, the pain blossomed up through my esophagus. Manifesting as a white hot fire in my throat.

All of a sudden I felt extremely glad that Carlisle was here to make sure that human murder was unnecessary. Because I was starting to doubt that if Aro had presented me with a bleeding human, dead or alive that I could resist.

I felt aghast with my own body for feeling this way. _Did my little angel really want people to die to feed us?_ I thought, one of my hands trembling at my throat, and the other tentatively rubbing my swollen belly.

"I know," Carlisle said gravely in response to Aro's earlier admission that I was his first priority. "But Bella would probably prefer to drink from our stash anyway…" he explained, his mention of my name shaking me from my grisly thoughts.

Aro immediately stiffened as he realized that his friend was right. His thin lips twisted into a guilty frown as he realized that trying to persuade me to imbibe blood directly from another person would cause me a great deal of emotional anguish.

Carlisle tried to coax the sudden glumness out of his friend with a friendly pat on the arm that seemed to say, _it's alright, you had honorable intentions._

Then Carlisle took one look at me, clutching my thirst-wracked neck, and announced, "I'll go grab a bag and warm it up for her immediately."

And without another word, Carlisle moved to do just that.

But just as he was about to leave, Aro held up a single halting hand to stop his progress over the plush carpet.

Carlisle froze immediately upon seeing the gesture, like a dog performing a trained motion for the hundredth time. He watched with a puzzled expression as Aro gracefully drifted back over to where I sat.

Aro baffled us all once again as he unceremoniously fell on both knees in front of the couch I rested on. Like being beneath me was no big deal, despite the fact that it definitely was. He took up one of my frail hands in his own and stroked my fingers in a mesmerizing way that nearly put me to sleep.

"Can you feel… the craving, my dear?" Aro asked softly.

I strained to swallow when it dawned on me what Aro was referring to exactly. Especially since I knew that the stabbing, fiery pain I now felt was it.

"I…"

I paused. My cheeks flushed even darker as I thought about how strange it would be to admit that I was feeling such a thing, despite being human. I was about to give up on answering at all, fearing that the reaction from the other vampires in the room would be overwhelmingly negative. But Aro's gently coaxing fingers persuaded me to continue.

"Y-yes…" I stammered out weakly.

In embarrassment, I made my best effort to bury myself beneath the huge mound of blankets I had been graciously smothered in.

Before I could completely duck beneath the covers, however, an icy hand seized my chin and tenderly tilted in upwards until it was perfectly level with Aro's. "There is no need to feel ashamed, dearest Bella," he murmured against my cheek.

As his mesmerizingly scented breath blew across my face, every cell of my body tingled with electricity. I was forced to clutch the couch arm behind my head for support, lest I collapse from intoxication.

"This is a perfectly _natural_ response to carrying the offspring of an immortal," he offered in a lulling voice that made me want to believe him. He made justifying my sudden, murderous desires seem so easy...

The hand which had been cradling my jaw slipped to rest protectively atop my T-shirt-swathed stomach. Aro paused for a moment, completely fixated on my protruding abdomen.

Then his head inclined upwards again. "Does the thought of drinking human blood disgust you?"

Emmett's bear-sized biceps bulged aggressively at the comment, clearly pissed that Aro was trying to cajole me into drinking the one substance they had sworn off for all eternity.

But despite the pulsing agony consuming my throat now, I was able to beat the Cullen giant to the proverbial punch.

"No." I coughed out honestly, before I continued in the barest whisper: "I think… I might actually…" I cleared my throat so that I didn't sound so hoarse, "… _like it_."

My response seemed to thoroughly disturb and perplex everyone in the room. To my surprise Esme looked particularly anxious to jump into the fray and answer Aro's next question in my stead. One of her kitten-heeled feet was already planted on the floor and her body was crouched and ready to rise from the beige couch cushions. And her expression as she made to rise was like that of a lawyer protesting my sanity in order to have my witness removed from court. Like she believed I had no idea what I was saying.

But once again, I was determined to speak for myself. "…as long as no one dies…" I made sure to add.

Aro recoiled from me like I'd verbally pierced him through the heart.

"Of course." His voice broke, a sound like angels' wings shattering. Then he refused to look at me all of a sudden in a way that made me want to throw my arms around him and cry. "I apologize for even suggesting it… that was insensitive of me," he berated himself harshly.

At once, Aro tried distance himself from my side in shame.

But I wouldn't let him.

I hated the idea that someone as powerful as him—the king who was rumored to get whatever he wanted, no matter how grandiose a scheme he had to concoct to obtain it—would be so crushed by the possibility of offending someone as insignificant as me, that he would feel the need to move. That was not how the world was supposed to work.

So I caught Aro's arm and held him firmly in place. He needed to know that I wasn't mad at him. I had definitely initially been horrified by his suggested method of feeding me. And I was still a little shaken by all the constant reminders that Aro made a habit of turning innocent mortals into lunch... But I didn't want him to leave—not when his presence had done me so much good already.

"N-no..." I protested his movement as ardently as I could. Though it came out kind of strangled sounding. "You just wanted to h-help."

Aro relaxed back into his spot on the carpet in front of my couch. And his expression turned from one of inexplicable, though evidently very deep pain, to one of disbelieving awe.

"You truly are just as remarkably gracious about our kind as Carlisle said you were," Aro remarked with no small degree of astonishment.

His crimson eyes flickered over me with that unnerving hungry look again. " _Amazing_."

His praise and the ecstatic, toothy smile that cracked across his lips afterwards made something peculiar stir at the base of my spine that I really didn't want to think about too hard. But thankfully I was spared from commenting as Aro whirled around again to face the opposite couch.

"Carlisle?"

That word alone was enough to spur the humane doctor into action. "I'll be right back," he promised us before he leaped up from his cushy seat and vanished into his private office. He left nothing but a flurry of florally-scented air and a light-grey blur in his wake.

In his absence we heard rustling noises and the metallic clicking sound of someone opening a safe. "Esme would you look for an opaque cup and a straw?" Carlisle's voice called out into the hallway. "I think Bella would be more comfortable if we made this as normal as possible."

Esme immediately gave her assent and dashed off to do just that, her lavender dress swishing audibly as she sprinted into the kitchen. She began loudly rifling through the various cherry cabinets of her design-catalogue-worthy kitchen searching for the items her husband had requested.

As his surrogate mother flitted about, Emmett crossed his arms sourly for a few seconds before he excused himself.

As he rose from the couch to leave, and saw my bewildered expression, he explained his reasons. Emmett figured that since he hadn't hunted with Esme and Rosalie the night before, and he didn't possess Carlisle's miraculous control, it would be best for him to take a hike so that he didn't do something stupid. Like try to wrestle the blood out of my hands and devour it himself.

After he finished, I actually felt grateful that he was aware enough of his level of restraint that he knew to leave, rather than force himself to try and stick it out like Jasper had on my eighteenth birthday. Because if he lunged… it wasn't my life I was worried about.

It was his.

Aro, my peculiarly dutiful protector, would tear him apart before he could so much as lay a finger on me. At least, that's what Aro's current stance told me.

I wasn't sure how he'd gotten there, since I hadn't felt him move. But suddenly Aro was hunkered into a predatory crouch atop my sofa in the space he'd been sitting in just moments before. His arms were outstretched, ready to catch and dispatch should Emmett suddenly decide to come barreling our way.

I had never felt more thankful in my life that the flames dancing in the fireplace in this room were simply a decorative projection of sorts, rather than an actual fire. Because at least that way if the two vampires did fight, no damage done would be totally irreversible…

Thankfully, though, nothing happened.

After Emmett declared his intentions, he threw one last scathing look in Aro's direction, before he exited through the front door in a supernaturally-fast fashion. It wasn't long before he had placed a sizable distance between himself and the house, disappearing from sight into the early morning mist. But Aro waited until Emmett's hasty footsteps had finally faded out of the range of his insanely sharp hearing before he visibly relaxed.

Once Emmett was well and truly gone, Aro slipped smoothly from his crouch into a casual sitting position next to my blanket-swaddled feet. And for a moment we simply sat there, both of us staring off at nothing in particular while Carlisle and Esme frantically worked to prepare a hot cup of O positive in the most efficient and palatable manner they could think of. We listened to the clatter of feet and the electronic hum of a microwave as the couple worked in tandem.

...That is, until we realized that we were effectively alone together and things began to get a little strange.

Aro kept trying to sneak glances at my baby-bump as he sat next to me. The only reason he wasn't successful in doing this without me catching him was because his eyes were too greedy. They continued to linger on my belly with a warm, paternal light about them even when my sluggish mortal eyes turned to see what he was doing.

He could have easily evaded letting me see his obvious interest in my child, (he was certainly swift enough). But for some reason he either simply chose not to. Or he was so fascinated with the tiny infant growing inside me, that he didn't notice I had caught him staring until it was too late.

I was really starting to believe that it was the latter—despite the fact Aro being that enthralled with a child that wasn't even his own was ludicrous to me. So I decided it was high time to ask why he cared _so much_ about us.

My lips were halfway open…

Unfortunately, however, Aro decided to ask the question that had been on his mind for the last several minutes instead. And since I didn't harbor any desire to remain gaping like a fish, I snapped my mouth shut. And politely listened to his inquiry.

"Might I hear the child's thoughts again?" Aro suggested hopefully. He raised one hand incrementally towards the top of my blankets, prepared to draw them and the flimsy T-shirt beneath aside so he could touch my bruised flesh one more time.

I tensed in my seat as I thought about Aro's powerful hands going anywhere near my son. I still mentally insisted he was a boy, despite not having any proof either way.

Aro immediately backed away. "For medical purposes only, I assure you," he smoothly promised in that dark, silky baritone of his. The one that made me want to melt. "The child's thoughts will probably be our first indication that our theory is correct."

Aro's logic made sense. And suddenly I decided that I wanted to know, preferably as soon as possible, if his proposed solution would work as he hoped. (I only had one more week to live, if it didn't, after all). So I nodded vigorously. Then I leaned forward a little so that Aro wouldn't have to reach as far to touch my belly.

I gasped a little as Aro wasted no time pushing the covers down into my lap, and immediately set upon curling up the hem of my shirt. His arctic fingers caused a thousand tiny goosebumps to erupt all across my body as they softly tickled my skin. And for a hot second I imaged that Aro would completely remove my shirt, followed by the rest of my clothing entirely.

But Aro wasn't a pervert. He was probably just very eager to obtain my child's thoughts. I doubted that it ever occurred to him that his action of hastily peeling away cloth could be easily misconstrued.

And fortunately, I was right. Aro stopped rolling up the fabric at the appropriate place—just beneath the bustline—and gently pressed both of his freezing palms against the sides of my huge bump.

The sensation of his touch was highly unusual, but peculiarly comforting at the same time. My son immediately settled when he felt it. And I swore I could feel a warm flush of happiness radiating from him. Though I might've mistaken it with my own feelings.

As he knelt in front of me, Aro tensed a fraction against my skin. After a moment, his teeth began grinding together as if in pain. And immediately he began speaking soft words of pacification to my baby.

"Shh… little one, it will be alright," he cooed. "Carlisle will bring you what you desire," he promised with a gentle rub. "It will not be long."

Aro paused for a moment. He gave me the briefest of glances, before his head tilted downwards again. His ebony locks spilled over his shoulders and tickled my belly.

"Do not worry. Your mother loves you very much," Aro assured the tiny infant growing inside me.

At once I felt a rush of maternal instincts compelling me to reach down and cradle my infant between Aro's hands. I delivered a soft, affectionate pat to convey the truth in Aro's words. And mushy tears beaded in my eyes as I thought of how much I loved my darling baby boy. I was impressed that, despite not having access to _my_ thoughts, Aro could discern just how deeply I cared for my child anyway.

His next words were a little less comforting, though. "She just didn't know what to feed you. An understandable mistake."

I gasped. _My baby thought I didn't love him because I wasn't feeding him what he wanted? Oh no!_

"No, no, you are very much wanted, dearest child," Aro went on tenderly. His tone was incredibly soothing, but the implications of his side of the conversation were starting to horrify me. "Just unexpected is all.

"He thinks… that I… that I don't love him… and don't want him… because I haven't been feeding him right?" My voice broke several times as I asked this terrifying question. And afterwards, I capitulated into another harsh coughing fit, due to the extreme dryness of my throat.

Aro didn't even flinch as I basically coughed in his face. I guess vampires couldn't really catch human germs, but it was still a little unnerving.

When I finally finished hacking, one of Aro's hands left my child's belly to tenderly stroke my wrist as he had done before. His fingers seemed oddly mesmerized by the pattern of bluish veins he found there.

Aro turned his crimson gaze upwards, even as his fingers continued to draw unintelligible patterns on my skin. He stared unblinkingly into my eyes as he spoke. "It is complicated," he began in a voice that suggested I ought not to freak out any more so as to no disturb the baby.

I nodded as I realized he was right. Immediately I tried to sink back a little further into the plush couch cushions to relax. To assure the little life inside me that everything was okay.

"The child can hear our voices, and for some time he or she has been able to distinguish emotional tones," Aro calmly started to explain. "And while your voice has typically conveyed protection, warmth and love, many times in the last week you've been provoked and conveyed frustration and fear. Not to mention that the others certainly have spoken unfavorably. Edward's angry words in particular have frightened him or her," Aro revealed in low tones.

Hearing him say that name—the name of my absent husband—stung, especially with how acerbic it had sounded, despite Aro's efforts to keep his voice placid and lulling around my child. The wound of his abandonment was still so raw, so unbelievable. _How could someone who had promised to love me forever just give up on me and_ _ **our child**_ _, like that?_ _How could he just hop out of the window and run away when he had a starving wife and baby to worry about?_

But again I knew Aro was right. Edward's irate ramblings about abortion had terrified _me—_ and I was on the _outside_ with better developed rational faculties than my baby.

If Aro was right, all my son was hearing was a bunch of foreign, sharp, furious sounds. And he was feeling all of my fear and stress without any way of knowing what was really going on. He couldn't see anything other than the dark, bloody walls of my womb. And he wasn't mentally developed enough to understand that my fear was _for_ him, not _of_ him.

No wonder he was worried that he wasn't wanted or that he wasn't safe!

Aro sighed, one hand still gently cupping my belly and the other still tracing the path of the veins on my wrist. "The child is confused. He or she is not sure if they are cherished or are simply a burden."

 _You are not a burden. I love you,_ I thought with all my might towards the baby.

"The hunger… doesn't help matters."

I blinked in shock. "He thinks I'm… *cough* …neglecting him on… *cough* …on purpose?"

"Concepts like 'purpose', 'motive' and 'intent' are a little beyond the child at the moment," Aro clarified. "It is miraculous enough that the child is aware that it is a separate entity from you. Carlisle says that sort of recognition is unusual even in infants outside the womb for the first few months at least."

"Really?" I struggled to imagine what it must be like to not be able to distinguish yourself from your own mother. I guess in a way it made sense that the baby might start out thinking they were one thing because, well, at the moment we were physically inseparable. But our minds were so different.

As I pondered this, suddenly I became extremely envious of Aro's ability to read my child's thoughts—it allowed him a degree of intimacy with my baby that I could never have.

Aro nodded. "All the child knows is that you are responsible for providing sustenance, and that the sustenance he or she has received thus far is insufficient," he supplied in his gorgeous, honey voice. "He or she cannot begin to fathom why. They are just scared," he finished with an empathetic cringe, as if some of that same fear was bleeding over into him.

"Oh baby… don't be scared," I murmured in my angel's direction. "Mommy's going to get you everything you need," I promised raspily.

At that moment, Aro and I were prevented from continuing our conversation any further as Carlisle stepped back into the living room clad in a white lab coat. He had a large metal bowl in one hand and a tall white Styrofoam cup with a clear plastic straw poking out of the lid in the other. A murky dark fluid filled the cup to the brim. But it was barely visible through the thick, nearly opaque receptacle.

That was probably on purpose, to try and obscure what it was. But it was futile, because I automatically realized it was blood. Human blood.

And Carlisle and Aro wanted me to drink it.

 _Yuck? Yum?_ I wasn't sure what to feel.

My infant certainly seemed excited by it. A fact which Aro noted with a widening smile on his face, as he continued to adoringly caress my bared belly.

But as for myself… I wasn't sure. My emotions were all over the place as of late. Facing the brink of starvation whilst pregnant and being desperate to save your only child at all costs kind of did that to people.

As the doctor floated closer to where I lied on the couch, his golden eyes took particular notice of Aro. Aro was kneeling at my side with one hand placed directly against the side of my bare stomach. And Carlisle looked extremely discomfited by the sight for some reason.

"Do you intend…?" the blond vampire started to ask the man peering at my child's thoughts.

Aro's eyes finally tore themselves away from my black and blue skin to look over at his friend. He cut the younger vampire off. "I figured reading the child's thoughts would be the fastest way to discover if this theory is valid," he explained, inclining his head towards his hand in reference to his powers. "Though at this point I have very few doubts."

Carlisle visibly relaxed as he heard this. "Of course."

The doctor then diverted his attention to me. He stepped forward into a space a little off to the side from where Aro had positioned himself. Standing to the left of Aro, he extended the arm holding the metal bowl towards me, and slowly settled it in my lap.

"If you begin to feel any nausea… here's a bowl…" Carlisle offered uncertainly.

Thanks to having quite the impressive resume of injuries, I knew that swallowing human blood under normal circumstances could make a human being very nauseous. So Carlisle was just taking the proper precautions should my body react to the fluid as his medical expertise suggested it should.

But as soon as he extended the other arm, urging me to take the tall white cup from him, I knew Carlisle's worries were unfounded.

Because at that moment I caught the tiniest whiff of the single most delicious smell in the universe. It immediately caused my mouth to start watering like a faucet. And as the delectable scent drew closer, my throat pulsed with that white-hot, stabbing pain again that I now recognized as bloodthirst.

"I don't think I'll need it," I tentatively told Carlisle as I took the cup from his wintry hands.

I was mortified to admit it, but there was a zero-percent chance I was going to want to throw this up. The blood smelled delicious.

Trying not to think too hard about what I was doing, other than that it would help my baby, and not daring to look at either Carlisle or Aro, I took the tube-straw between my lips and hesitantly sucked in.

The liquid that slowly rose to my lips was warmed to body-temperature in Carlisle's microwave. And it tasted bitter, salty and metallic. It was a good bitter though. A tasty, savory bitter. Like pickles or vinegar poured over salad. Except that I hated pickles and vinegar. And I definitely didn't hate this.

It was good. Very good.

Exquisite, actually.

And unlike all the previous food I had eaten over the past two weeks, my stomach didn't constrict or start to churn with queasiness as the warm fluid poured into it. Instead it accepted the liquid with eagerness. And all of my digestive sensors prompted my brain to signal that I wanted more.

So after that first hesitant sip, I began gulping down the yummy drink as quickly as I could.

I barely even noticed what I was doing—that I was chugging blood like a starving person drinking a strawberry milkshake. I just couldn't get enough. I drank with this same fervor for a while, relishing the feeling of the hot liquid on my tongue. At least, until I heard the coarse, dry air sucking sound that told me the cup was now empty.

As I pulled back, gasping for air, it dawned on me what I had done.

Immediately I felt disgusted with myself. _I just drank like… a venti latte's worth of human blood. And I liked it._

I reached for my blankets to bury myself in shame. Though as I fumbled for the covers, I felt a tender caress against my back. And a cool, feathery voice purring in my ear. "There is no need to feel ashamed of the fact that human blood appeals to you now, Bella."

I fervently shook my head. "But I'm still… mortal." I wasn't comfortable with the implications, no matter how "natural" Aro insisted it was.

"Ah," he sighed in comprehension. "Do you consider your actions to be cannibalistic?"

"…A little…" I supplied nervously, averting my gaze in humiliation. I absently fingered the raised hem of my shirt. "Do you?"

Aro rebutted with a firm shake of his own. "Not at all. As I said earlier, because of the child within you, I already consider you to be one of us, simply a bit frailer for the moment," he declared.

 _He already considers me a vampire? Is that why I'm distinctly_ _ **not**_ _food to him? Because he doesn't think of me as mortal anymore?_

 _When did that change come about?_ I wondered. _I was_ _ **very mortal**_ _the last time we met. Is it just because he'd been planning on it anyway since Alice sent the wedding invitation? Or is it really because of the reason he says—that my baby makes me one of them?_

"And your diet confirms it," Aro continued resolutely, oblivious to my inner musings.

I bristled at his insinuation that I was somehow part of the undead club already simply because I'd drank a large serving of human blood and it seemed to settle nicely in my stomach.

"We don't even know if it works yet…" I tried to counter.

But in the midst of saying so I realized that my throat already felt loads better. That burning sensation had quieted to a dull throb. And my voice was no longer hoarse and scratchy, but smooth and clear.

Not to mention Aro, whose hand was still planted securely atop my belly, knew the real answer from my baby's thoughts.

"On the contrary I think we do. The child is very pleased with this development," Aro revealed.

This announcement earned a hopeful expression from Esme, who stood on the other side of the room, watching the scene unfold from a distance.

Aro resumed his attentions to my wrist. He lifted his other hand from my belly to curl it delicately around my hand. "How are you feeling, my dear Bella?" Aro asked. "You certainly look considerably better."

That last part stunned me. "I do?"

Aro nodded and smiled brightly. "Quite. Do you wish to see the results of our experiment yourself?"

His words prompted Esme to quickly flit up the stairs in a lavender blur. She returned seconds later with an ornate, silver hand-mirror in which I could view my reflection. Reaching her arms over Aro, she handed it to me. She waited until my pencil-thin fingers had clenched tightly around it before she let go so that I wouldn't clumsily drop it.

As I took the mirror from Esme I was anxious as to what I would see. In all honestly I'd stopped looking at myself a few days ago—the eerie gauntness of everything except my pregnant belly was just too creepy to handle most of the time. But I had a decent enough idea of how hideous I generally looked to gasp at what I saw when I peered into the clean reflective surface.

"That's not…" I couldn't believe it.

Aro was right, I did look a lot better. My cheekbones weren't protruding so sharply from my face. My skin was warmer, flushed with life instead of a sickly green. And my neck even looked a few millimeters thicker than before.

My hair was still considerably lacking in the luster department. And my bony frame left much to be desired. But it was definitely an improvement. Which made me partially ecstatic and partially confused. Ecstatic, because this meant that me and my baby's chances for survival had increased significantly. And confused because I had only drank blood a few seconds ago, and my body should not have had enough time to absorb its nutrients. Let alone so effectively.

I mean… most starvation victims even when given access to normal food had a lot of trouble readjusting to it.

But that was not the case now.

"Remarkable," Carlisle breathed in awe as he witnessed the signs of my increased health himself. "The blood is already working to restore her nutrition," he observed with a happy smile.

Carlisle removed the metal bowl from my lap. "I presume you won't be needing this?"

Abashed, I shook my head. Nausea was the furthest thing from my mind right now. Actually I was still a little hungry... er… thirsty… or whatever word vampires used to describe the feeling. I wanted more blood.

It wasn't a _pressing_ need as it had been before. Nor was it painful. But it was a persistent niggling nonetheless. Like I'd been invited to a fancy dinner and had only taken the first few bites. The stall in nutrition was incredibly annoying.

After a few minutes of Aro and Carlisle praising one another for a job well done, I hissed and closed my fingers around my throat. My esophagus had started to tingle vexingly, and I was trying to will away the itchy feeling. Of course, although I'd tried to be discreet about it, everyone in the room noticed this action.

Aro's hand once again flew to my stomach to ascertain what the matter was.

"The child still thirsts…" he announced to the room as soon as his chilly skin connected with mine. "I suggest we permit Bella to drink until the child is sated. How much blood do you have on hand?"

Carlisle replied immediately, without missing a beat. "Oh I saved up quite a bit. Twice as much as her own weight in blood. I wanted to make sure that we had plenty."

Aro's cheeks split to reveal a wide, dazzling smile. "Excellent. Could you prepare her another drink?" he encouraged. With a slender finger he gestured towards the kitchen in which Carlisle had microwaved my last cup of blood.

"Absolutely," Carlisle easily agreed. The gloomy tone that he usually used when referring to my medicinal needs was replaced with optimism. "I am glad we've found something that works!"


	7. Chapter 7: Ad Nauseam

**AN: Happy Halloween everyone! Figured I'd grace you guys with an update for the holiday. Chapter 8 is about halfway finished as well, but schoolwork as really been a doozy this semester, so I can't promise any regular updates to either of my stories. I haven't abandoned them, just progress is slow at the moment.**

* * *

 _…_

 _I will apply, for the benefit of the sick, all measures which are required._

 _(Modern Version of the Hippocratic Oath)_

 _…_

CHAPTER SEVEN: AD NAUSEAM

"Go on, Bella…" Aro urged as he tried to press another warm cup of blood into my thicker, healthier hands.

Five other empty cups already sat discarded on the glass coffee table behind him. The accompanying lids were all detached. Plastic straws stuck up out of the tall white cylinders at odd angles, looking broken and abused. And the inside of all of the styrofoam cups was stained ever-so slightly pink—evidence of the fact that Aro had persisted in feeding me blood for quite some time.

I was feeling a lot better as a result of drinking so much. My skinny arms and legs were starting to fill out properly. My body possessed a great deal more energy. And my stomach was happier than it had ever felt. But I disliked that these improvements had come at the cost of so much cannibalistic behavior.

As I had thirstily chugged down cup after cup of human blood, I kept picturing my human friends back at Fork's High. I knew that what I was drinking could have been supplied by them at the most recent blood drive. Their disappointed and disgusted faces haunted me with every slurp. It just didn't feel right to take advantage of their hospitality like that.

Sure it wasn't as bad as the morbid alternative Aro had initially suggested. Killing people to drink their blood was definitely a hundred times worse. But I still felt uncomfortable with taking away viable blood from patients at Forks Hospital that probably needed it just as badly, if not more than I did. _What right did I have to do that?_

With an embarrassed expression, I pushed his offering away. "I'm not thirsty… I'm fine really."

"That is not what the child tells me," Aro argued softly, still urging the cup forward with his right hand. His other hand was gently resting against my bare belly.

A belly which was no longer riddled in goosebumps from the cold. I guess my body now possessed enough of its own heat to keep me warm, despite his glacial temperate.

The dark splotches once smattering the surface of my belly had also changed. They had faded to a pale yellow color, though not entirely disappeared. It was impressive how quickly they were healing. But I supposed with how quickly my child had been growing these last couple of weeks I should not have been surprised that once he obtained sufficient nutrition to expend on things like my healing, that the process would happen extremely rapidly.

"But I've already drank so much…" I protested.

I really didn't want to be a glutton. And I was only a teensy bit thirsty now.

"Maybe we should try some normal food…?" I asked experimentally.

I was hoping that perhaps we could revert to giving me nutrition in the comfortable, human manner now that the dietary needs of my unborn child had been addressed. _Maybe I could still eat human food, I just had to wait until after I drank enough human blood to satisfy my baby,_ I mused optimistically.

But it was much more likely that I would just continue to throw up if I tried. My body had been considerably altered by the presence of an immortal in my womb—that much was becoming abundantly clear.

"He or she is very specifically craving blood my dear," Aro rebutted in a tender voice. He sounded like he was worried that the words might offend me and he desperately wanted to avoid that. But at the same time his tone was very serious, and left little room for debate.

"I am not surprised that the child is so thirsty after being deprived for so long…" Aro mused aloud as he peered adoringly at the swath of stomach beneath his alabaster fingers.

"But what are we going to do if we run out?"

I wasn't sure exactly how much blood Carlisle had on hand. He'd said "twice my weight in human blood", but I didn't know exactly how much that meant. And I was fairly confident that if I continued to guzzle it down at this incredible rate, his stash wouldn't last very long. No matter how abundant it was.

I glanced over at the haphazard arrangement of empty cups on the coffee table. "Shouldn't we… ration what we have?" I suggested worriedly.

Aro smiled slightly up at me from where he knelt. He set down the Styrofoam cup he'd been holding on the table behind him. Then he rubbed the cool fingers of both hands against my stomach, tracing a languid path across my ribcage to my navel.

I assumed this was meant as a comfort to both me and my child. Though it struck me as a little too intimate for my taste with how electrifying the sensation felt. His deft fingers brushing oh so tenderly against my abdomen sent the strangest current of fire down my spine.

But I didn't dare swat him away. The baby (and I) appreciated his delicate massages far too much for that.

"Carlisle has assured me that he can obtain more from the hospital," Aro purred as he continued to draw unintelligible patterns against my skin.

I struggled not to melt or moan underneath his mesmerizing touch—he was too good at this. Even Edward's most conscientiously tender touches vastly paled in comparison. Though Aro was only rubbing his hands across the exposed flesh of my stomach, my entire body felt like it was alive, tingling with little lightning bolts of euphoria everywhere. It was extremely unnerving that the ancient vampire could have such a powerful effect on me.

I was beginning to wonder if feeling this way was inappropriate, given the fact that I was already married to another. Aro wasn't doing anything uncouth, really. Especially since Esme was still in the room, attentively watching from the opposite couch. But no one had ever had their hands on my belly for this long, not even Edward. And I was starting to wonder if that was alright or not.

It wasn't like I could do anything about it either way. Unless Aro got gropy—which he most certainly was too sophisticated of a gentleman to do—I couldn't really complain. I had given him permission to maintain physical contact with the exterior of my womb until my baby's appetite for blood was fully satisfied. It would only look suspicious to rescind it now on account of… really enjoying Aro's touch.

So I let him continue his skillful ministrations. And instead of dwelling on anything else, I tried to focus on how content and loved they made my son feel. I wasn't sure how I could tell. But I _knew_ that my baby was practically blubbering with happiness with all the attention he was receiving from Aro.

Just as I started to feel comfortable with Aro's touch again, my bliss was ruined when Carlisle suddenly reappeared in the living room. Normally, the Tri-centennial vampire's presence was a comforting one. But too many things about his appearance this time were "off" to put me at ease.

The first was that he had entered the room too fast—flitting down the stairs at a lightning fast speed—before he came to an abrupt halt beside Aro. Although I was used to seeing vampries move that fast, I had come to associate that particular level of swiftness with life-threatening danger. So it was highly unnerving to see Carlisle move toward me that quickly.

The second was Carlisle's suddenly skeptical expression as he took note of Aro's hands massaging my swollen stomach. His disapproving eyes made me feel incredibly self-conscious all over again. Not to mention that they made me worry that Carlisle didn't trust Aro to protect me for what was probably a very logical reason. That I'd made some terrible oversight when I'd decided to let him take Rosalie's place as my protector.

And the third was that as soon as Carlisle's face finally began to soften, he and Aro wordlessly exchanged knowing looks, evidently brimming with meaning that I couldn't decipher. All I could gather was that Aro looked particularly castigated for some reason. For he froze in place, as if caught with one hand in the cookie jar.

Something definitely was up between those two.

And I didn't like that I was being left out of the loop.

Carlisle straightened his lapels and smoothed back his hair. "Bella, will you be alright if I go to the office today?" he asked unexpectedly. "I haven't worked at the hospital since before you came home. And it's unusual for me to miss so many days without prior notice…"

If I hadn't been so worried about the reservations Carlisle obviously harbored about Aro's proximity to me, I would have realized that he was right. Carlisle's human co-workers might be concerned about his abrupt, unexplained absence. Although all the Cullens had a penchant for skipping out on things, it wasn't like the considerate doctor to go MIA for an entire week. And the last thing we needed were suspicious humans showing up on our doorstep, looking for him, while a member of the Volturi was visiting.

But in the moment, I was too preoccupied with the more immediate consequences of Carlisle's statement. Specifically, that if he returned to work, I would be left with one less bodyguard to protect my son. So there was no way I could think practically about this.

All I could do was panic. "What?!" I blurted out. "You're leaving?"

"He cannot take leave from the hospital indefinitely. Or else the humans will begin to grow suspicious," Aro supplied logically.

Carlisle nodded to indicate that he agreed with Aro's assessment. Though his pale lips faintly turned down at the corners as he registered that I was not comforted by this.

At the moment I didn't care what Carlisle's motivations were. To suddenly abandon me, even if only temporarily, was unacceptable.

"I can stay if you would prefer…" Carlisle offered tentatively in a way that clearly suggested this wasn't the most favorable option in his eyes. "I simply thought that, since Aro's suggestion seems to be working, I needn't supervise you constantly. I wasn't planning on returning to full work days just yet. Just a couple of hours. Also, eventually I'll need to return to restock on… supplies. But if you need me to stay another day…"

"I…" I started hesitantly.

I couldn't pinpoint exactly why, but the idea of being left in the house with just Esme and Aro gave me goosebumps. It reminded me too much of what Edward had said about everyone in the Cullen family abandoning me to die. And more logically it meant that Aro would no longer be outnumbered.

 _Did Carlisle really trust Aro so much already?_ I wondered. He had seemed extremely worried only last night that Aro might command my death because of what I carried. And even just a few seconds ago he'd seemed at least somewhat dubious that I was safe with Aro. Unless I was reading him completely wrong.

Which was entirely possible.

Perhaps he was just worried about something else. Like that Aro's constant touching of me would make me too cold.

 _But was Aro's obvious regard for me and my child really all it took for Carlisle get over his compunctions and trust his friend with my life completely?_ I wondered. _Or is there something else I am missing?_ I struggled to reason out. _Carlisle had said earlier that he thought it would be Aro's_ _ **guard**_ _who would pressure that decision, not the man himself, if it came to that. Because I was innocent, and Aro didn't like to punish innocents._

Though, that alone seemed like a flimsy guarantee of my safety. I figured that if the reasons that might prompt the guard to clamor for my execution were logical enough, Aro would think of them on his own, eventually. And then what? Innocence hardly mattered when the fate of the entire supernatural world was at stake.

Despite all of Aro's actions which had proven the contrary, all _logic_ dictated that my life was still hanging by a thread.

But based on Carlisle's earlier confident posture as he had explained his intention to go to work, I knew he was more assured than that. He seemed to be _absolutely certain_ that I was in no danger here. And that disconcerted me.

 _What did the doctor know that I didn't?_ _Did he know why Aro was so dead-set of personally administering the best medical care to me and my child? And if he did, why on earth wouldn't he tell me?_ I was dying to know Aro's enigmatic motives for investing so much effort into my well-being.

I looked with a panicky expression towards Carlisle, visually begging him to stay.

Aro noticed this. "Do you not trust me?" His voice was laden with sorrow at the prospect. "I think I have proven that I care for you and your child a great deal."

To further prove his point, Aro leaned down and started to whisper something too soft for me to hear towards my baby. I didn't know exactly what he'd said. But I gathered that it was pleasant, for a shock of warmth and joy shot outward from my baby bulge into the rest of my body.

"I… get that," I quickly assured him. "I just… don't understand your motivations…" I revealed. My curious brown eyes stared down into his red irises, searching for the answer.

After the briefest flicker of glances in Esme's and Carlisle's direction, Aro pursed his lips in what looked like frustration. Then he averted his eyes from the both of us, choosing instead to stare discontentedly at the floor.

"Ah," he sighed sadly, as though his next words were likely to disappoint me. "I am afraid there are some things that I cannot divulge," he explained somewhat sheepishly.

"So this is a secret recruitment plot," I immediately responded.

It was the only option that made any logical sense to me. Though I found it a little startling that I'd unthinkingly blurted out such a brazen condemnation. Immediately I clapped my hands over my traitorous mouth.

Esme and Carlisle stiffened at my accusation.

But Aro himself ignored it and my self-mortified gesture. Instead he suddenly detached one of his hands from my round stomach to clutch woundedly at his coat-clad chest.

"Oh heaven's no, Bella! Is that how you see me?" he said with a peculiar amount of agony in his voice. Like the thought of me perceiving him as such truly pained him to the core. "A scheming, manipulative monster who wants to tear apart your family to serve my own selfish ends?"

I blinked a few times, astonished by his reaction. I had sort of expected a more suave, dodging-the-question, political answer—not such a raw, emotional response. His sudden vulnerability put me off guard.

Not knowing what else to say, I hesitantly probed, "…Am I wrong?"

Out of the corner of my eye I caught Carlisle's lips curling distastefully. And Esme shook her head in a way that suggested that she knew my supposition was totally false. But to my utter vexation they declined to impart their knowledge to me.

 _Esme knows something about this too,_ I deduced as I watched her start to fidget uncomfortably. _And so does Carlisle. But why won't they let me know? Did they make Aro promise never to say anything? And if so… why?_

Their reactions didn't make any sense.

Aro grimaced like my words actually physically stung. He dropped the hand from his chest to take my left hand in his. Then he stroked my pale digits with a reverential tenderness like I was a princess or something. "You have no idea how wrong," he said firmly.

After a somber moment of silence, Aro's eyes lit up like he'd had an incredible epiphany. I was confused by this sudden change of mood. Especially since it was followed almost immediately by Aro dipping his head to give me the softest of kisses across my knuckles.

My fingers, then my wrist, and eventually my entire arm felt oddly tingly all over from the sudden contact of his soft lips. Once again I worried about my marital faithfulness…

Though a quick glance over at the two onlooking Cullens told me that the couple wasn't upset by the brief contact the way they would be if Aro was pulling seductive moves on me.

And that's when I remembered that kissing a woman's hand was, at least in the past, a common, respectful, and reasonably platonic way of greeting a lady. As a modern woman though… the placement of Aro's smooth lips _anywhere_ on my person instinctively registered as something a lot more amorous. But he was _probably_ just trying to indicate that he saw me more or less as an equal—a person of individual value instead of potential dinner.

At least, that's what I reassured myself.

Though, from the enormous, conspiratorial grin on Aro's face as he pulled back from my electrified skin, I couldn't be sure. His smile was the sort of smile that eighth grade boys got when they'd sneaked something naughty into an English paper without their professor noticing. The sort that told me he had attempted to communicate why he cared about me so much with that simple kiss, since he was apparently forbidden to say why out loud.

And there was an expectant look in his eyes after he detached. One that suggested he thought I would immediately understand what he meant by his gentlemanly gesture.

 _Was Aro really trying to hint at what I thought?_ I wondered. _Was he really trying to let me know that the reason he cared so much was because he… harbored a romantic interest?_

I considered this for a fleeting second before I firmly dismissed the idea. He couldn't be thinking of me _romantically_ , I decided. That was just absurd. Aro of the Volturi, a three-thousand year old mastermind, wanting me—a married human woman with no special talents to speak of whatsoever, besides legendary clumsiness?

It was hard enough to believe that Edward had loved me—he was far enough out of my league.

But with Aro… there was no way.

So there had so be something else the man had been trying to convey with his courtly gesture. But I was totally lost as to what that would be.

And my confusion must have been evident on my face. Because, after a moment, Aro dropped his intense gaze and sighed heavily in disappointment.

"But I have solemnly sworn never to tell why I am… so invested in your care…" he admitted at last, confirming my suspicions. His lips curled with deep chagrin as he spoke.

And Esme's twisted into the tiniest of smiles.

Another moment of silence followed his statement, during which Aro still held my left hand securely in his. "At least…" He looked down at the enormous diamond ring on my fourth finger. A morose expression crossed his face. Like the object was particularly depressing.

Then, Aro appeared to have an epiphany. An epiphany that caused him to abruptly straighten and shut up.

I opened my mouth to ask him what he'd been about to say. But Aro cut me off with what I considered to be a totally irrelevant statement.

"Edward left you." He tried to keep his voice flat as he said it—neutral, and matter-of-fact. But it had come off with a twinge of… was that _hope_?

I was offended that he seemed pleased that the love of my life had abandoned me.

And Carlisle looked particularly upset in kind of a panicky way, looking very eager to chastise Aro for his tactless remark.

But I spoke first. "Yes," I answered coldly, not seeing where he was going with this.

Aro's eyes flickered back to mine, this time burning with sincere confusion and worry. "Why?"

He sounded like the idea of Edward abandoning me was unthinkable—like what he had seen of the younger vampire's thoughts in Volterra ought to have made such an action impossible.

And honestly I didn't blame him. I'd thought Edward had loved me too much to suddenly disappear like that, too. But it seemed we had both been wrong.

I wasn't exactly enthusiastic to rehash all the painful details of our last moments together, though. So I nervously fingered my ring and avoided Aro's piercing stare. "You saw him leave in Carlisle's memories… you know why."

"I have seen the event from Carlisle's perspective, yes," Aro easily agreed. Though it was obvious from his tone that the experience did not give him the insights he desired. "But I cannot comprehend the reasons for Edward's choice of action. He was so… _attached_ to you that I hadn't fathomed it possible to leave you behind."

The hand still resting on my belly tightened ever so slightly in what I thought was sort of a possessive gesture. An indication that he wouldn't be foolish enough to do the same as Edward had. Though I couldn't be sure.

"Well… he's done this once before…" I reminded Aro glumly, twisting my ring around in full circles now. I really didn't want to talk about this. Not when the wound of Edward's betrayal was so new.

 _Could we perhaps wait to discuss this? You know… until thirty years from now, when I'd finally resigned myself to the fact that Edward wasn't coming back? And preferably when we didn't have an audience?_ I thought, glancing furtively back at the pair of golden-eyed vampires carefully watching us.

"Ah, that is true," Aro remarked, recalling Edward's initial abandonment of me—the one that had caused Aro and I to meet for the first time. "But still…" He obviously found the notion unimaginable. "Do you believe he shall return?" he asked again with that oddly hopeful voice.

I had a sneaking suspicion, though, that _this_ hope was that Edward _wouldn't_ return, rather than that he would.

This stunned me. I didn't have the slightest clue what Edward had ever done to make Aro hate him so much. The ancient hadn't responded positively to _any_ mention of my husband's name, especially when it was put in conjunction with mine. And now was no exception.

"I don't know," I responded honestly.

There really was no way to tell at this point. However, I was starting to suspect with how dramatically Edward had left, and how firmly he'd believed that I was destined to perish that he wasn't ever going to come back.

"I… don't even know if I want that," I surprised myself by saying.

This elicited a bewildered and slightly offended gasp from Esme.

Aro too was flummoxed by my words. "But surely… he is your husband…"

I cut him off. "I know." I raised my ring-bearing hand and wiggled the finger it was resting on. "But he acted really… _scary_ last time I saw him," I admitted for the first time aloud.

This revelation caused Esme to tense uncomfortably atop the sofa cushions. Carlisle also subtly crossed his arms, like he wasn't fond of what I was insinuating. And Aro looked into my eyes with anxiety etched into his aristocratic features.

"He doesn't care that the baby is his too… he _hates_ it," I went on in a bitter voice.

I was astonished with how forthcoming I was being with this man who was practically a stranger. But it felt extremely cathartic just to get my feelings out, so I kept going.

"And if he wants my baby dead…" I trailed off.

But in my thoughts I finished the sentence. _If Edward wants my baby dead,_ _I don't think I can love him anymore…_

No wait. That can't be right…!

Afraid that I might accidentally say something I didn't really mean in the heat of the moment, I abruptly switched topics. "Why aren't you clamoring for an abortion? I mean… whatever your secret reason for wanting me alive is… it doesn't involve him," I gestured to my son, "...does it?"

Obviously I didn't _want_ an abortion. But I was deadly curious about Aro's motives anyway. And he'd gotten me sidetracked from trying to figure them out.

"Wouldn't it be easier to…?" I hesitantly mimed a slicing motion over my stomach to indicate my meaning. Immediately afterwards I clasped my hands protectively around my bump to signify that I really didn't want to do that.

"No." Aro's voice was icy and forbidding, like the idea I'd suggested was utterly abominable. It startled me a bit.

Suddenly his demeanor softened and he added in a much gentler, honey whisper, "My 'secret reason' for investing in your care can only be satisfied by your _complete_ happiness. And I have already determined that isn't possible without the child."

Well, he was right about that.

"Besides…" Aro's lips cracked into a radiant smile. "He or she is such a _fascinating_ little thing, wouldn't you agree?"

He said that last remark in a sing-song voice, wagging his fingers playfully towards my womb. But his words didn't have the intended effect.

I frowned. My voice turned sour. "He's not a thing. He's a person."

Aro immediately looked apologetic as he realized his mistake in terminology. "Of course. Forgive me."

"Though I must ask…" he chipped in ponderously after a few seconds, tapping his chin in thought with his free hand. "Why are you so adamant in referring to the child as male? At this point there is no possible way of knowing…"

"It's just a gut feeling. I always imagine him as a boy," I explained. I was a little abashed that my silly fantasies had overtaken my semantics so much. "I guess he could be a girl…" I offered hesitantly, but I really wasn't fond of the idea.

Not that I had anything against women… girls were great. I just wasn't especially fond of _me_. And that's what my baby would be inheriting if she was female.

I didn't want boring-old-Bella genes for my child. Surely Edward's were better… right?

Aro contemplated my reasoning for a moment before he carefully remarked, "Hmm. I think in the absence of concrete evidence I shall persist in using… _neutral_ terminology for now, if that is alright with you."

"As long as you don't call him 'it' or 'thing'…" I stipulated. I wouldn't stand for my darling baby to be referred to like an object, even if he was gender-ambiguous at the moment. It was dehumanizing. Not to mention it stirred up all sorts of bad memories of what Edward had said about killing him.

"Absolutely," Aro instantly acquiesced. He compassionately stroked my left hand and my stomach simultaneously. "I only used the word 'thing' earlier as a title of endearment… for which I apologize. He or she is far more valuable than that," he assured me with another smooth caress, drawing a line across the equator of my stomach that shot a tingle of fire down my spine.

"Though…" Aro continued in a drawl, "He or she is still thirsty…."

Aro dropped my hand to reach for the full Styrofoam cup of blood he'd settled back on the coffee table behind him earlier. And once again he pressed it back in my direction.

I looked uneasily down at the item resting between his skillful fingers. "Alright, Alright. I'll drink this last cup," I relented, taking the incriminating object from his hands and positioning the clear plastic straw beneath my pink lips.

"Just don't watch me, okay?" I implored. I was too embarrassed by the fact that I was drinking yet another cupful of human blood to feel comfortable with his intense scrutiny.

Aro momentarily looked a little surprised and… was that _'put out'?..._ that I didn't want him to watch. But accommodatingly he turned his head in the other direction.

"If… that is your wish."

…

After finishing off that last cup of blood, finally the thirst of my infant was satisfied, and Aro no longer had a suitable excuse to retain contact with my belly. He hadn't wanted to pull away—not in the slightest, I could tell. But although my baby's thoughts were apparently extremely interesting, Aro knew it wasn't socially appropriate to hold onto me indefinitely.

And so, as soon as I set the empty Styrofoam cup on the coffee table beside the others, Aro drew back from my skin. Allowing me to readjust the shirt I was borrowing from Emmett to cover my ballooning stomach again.

My baby was a little disappointed by the absence of Aro's caresses. That man had somehow managed to establish a powerful connection with my son, despite just meeting him.

But since my child's nourishment needs had finally been addressed, and I was calm, he didn't protest the change like he had before. My baby seemed to accept that we couldn't constantly lather him in love and praise.

And for the first time since his conception, I think my son actually fell asleep. Ambient tension and hunger had kept him edgy and awake most of the day for the last week. But now that those issues had been resolved, he could finally stop worrying about whether or not he was going to starve or get savagely ripped away from his home, and take a much needed nap.

The reprieve from my son's sometimes damaging activity was nice. And now that Aro wasn't trying to read my baby's thoughts, he arranged himself in a peaceful sitting position on the couch beside me. It was a much more natural position for the aristocratic vampire than kneeling in front of me on the carpeted floor.

Carlisle had agreed to not leave the house for now. He opted instead to return to his in-house lab to study the skin cell-samples he'd harvested from my arm to determine if the blood or my supernatural pregnancy was causing any changes to my genetic makeup instead. We weren't exactly sure what should happen next, since my health was already nearly completely restored. And it was only predicted to continue to improve as long as I persisted with this new diet.

But, for a few moments everything felt like it would be okay. Esme and Aro were content to share a little light-hearted chit-chat about the decorations she'd pulled out of the attic specifically in preparation for his arrival. And I could just sink back into the fluffy cushions and relax.

Compared to most of the conversations I'd heard in the last week, (conversations that had mostly consisted of yelling), the friendly conversation going on between Esme and Aro was a welcome change—a little piece of domestic heaven. Although it was a little bizarre to watch the pair of vampires discuss such mundane things, I didn't want it to stop. I liked feeling normalcy again.

But the peace was abruptly shattered with a sudden screech of tires on the road like before. It was followed by the clacking sound of high-heeled footsteps bounding up the front steps. And once the clattering stopped, there was a loud, impatient knock on the front door.

Immediately both Aro and Esme shot off the couch and flitted over to the front door as black and lavender blurs, with Carlisle coming in as a streak of white not too far behind. Once they reached the entryway the trio adopted protective crouching positions.

Until they caught the scent of whoever was standing behind the door. Then they instantly straightened and relaxed.

As Esme reached for the polished chrome door handle, I didn't really understand their reactions—it seemed strange for them to let off their guard so quickly. Until the bright white door slid wide open enough for me to see the person waiting behind it.

Rosalie.

When I saw her face I automatically eased up too. But as I took in her form, standing imperiously on the front porch in sparkling silver stilettos, and wearing the dazzling, skin-tight, blue dress she'd worn to my junior prom, I thought it was little odd that she hadn't been here earlier.

Her stunning appearance told me that she'd been in the process of getting dressed up for Aro's arrival—that she'd meant to be here for that. But as I looked closer I realized that something had interrupted her preparations. Her platinum blonde hair was half-curled and half-straight. And only one side of her eye makeup was done.

Rosalie didn't look happy about that fact. Her hands were placed stubbornly on her hips, their nails manicured with long white tips. And her chest was puffed up in annoyance, in a way that caused her ample cleavage to strain against the thin scraps of fabric holding it in place.

Thankfully, in spite of her dress's plunging neckline, (no doubt due to lots of fashion tape), everything stayed where it ought to.

But I had become so absorbed in worrying about what I saw as an inevitable clothing malfunction, I didn't notice the pale slip of paper in Rosalie's hand.

Not until she thrust it furiously toward Carlisle. And stabbed the index finger of her other hand into Aro's chest.

From where I was sitting it was impossible to tell exactly what was written on the paper. Even as I leaned over the back of the beige couch to watch this scene unfold. But I'd seen the exact color and shape of the item enough times, thanks to having hung out with reckless teenagers, to know immediately what it was. And I could understand why Rosalie was so upset.

It was a speeding ticket. And judging by the way Rosalie was fuming at Aro, it rightfully belonged to him. Or at least she felt that earning it was somehow his fault.

"Thanks to your little _stunt_ out there, I got a ticket!" Rosalie hissed into Aro's face.

She said it with such venom that the ancient instinctively drew his head back and inch or two.

"I went to the store to grab some more makeup, and I was only going to be gone for a few minutes... But then I heard your crazy tires screeching and knew I had to do something," Rosalie went on. "I had to distract the police, you know, since you were being so suspicious, driving like… 300 miles per hour! So I went speeding in front of the station to stop them."

"What were you thinking, you psycho?" Her irate expression looked quite demented thanks to her half-finished makeup.

"Actually, the fastest I drove was only _two-hundred and sixteen_ miles per hour," Aro corrected with a smirk as he gently swatted Rosalie's accusatory finger away from his person. "And besides, while your efforts to make certain that I was not caught are appreciated, I have been evading law enforcement for far longer than you have," he reminded her with a derisively pointing finger of his own.

"The police force in Seattle is a lot more formidable than the paltry opposition I might face here. And the former didn't even try to stop me, thanks to the unorthodox route I decided to take. So you see, I am quite capable of avoiding trouble without your assistance."

Aro's rather confident assessment of his abilities, and his gesture—a slightly politer, more delicate mimicry of her own—seemed to particularly irk the unkempt blonde.

But it wasn't until after Rosalie flickered her eyes briefly around the room in search of something that apparently eluded her, that she let out an angry snarl. And looked all-too-ready to rip out his throat with her claw-like nails.

Her sudden and somewhat nonsensically violent behavior stunned me too much to react right away. And it wasn't like I could really do anything either.

Thankfully Carlisle and Esme close enough to prevent their daughter from putting the slightest scratch on Aro. They both rushed forward at the same time. And each dragged one of Rosalie's hands back behind her.

"Rosalie! Calm down!" Carlisle urgently commanded as she struggled in his grip, her wild whitish gold hair swirling around her like a hurricane.

"Where's the baby?!" she shrieked towards Aro, explaining why she was so intent on mauling him.

She must have assumed that my absence from the greeting party meant that something awful had happened after Aro had arrived. That either I was in another room mourning the loss of my child which he'd forcibly aborted. Or I was buried in shallow grave out back, exterminated for the greater good.

"And where's Bella?!" Rosalie yelled after a few seconds of thrashing, as though I was an afterthought. "What has he done with her?!"

She directed this last question back towards Carlisle. But it was Aro who decided to answer her.

"Bella and her child are fine," Aro informed her gently. He swept a hand in the direction of where I sat, hanging over the back of one of the living room couches to watch the altercation happening in the doorway.

"See for yourself."

Rosalie initially stiffened as her golden eyes followed the path of Aro's deadly fingers. She was probably expecting to see a bloody, shredded corpse draped casually over the designer cushions. But her demeanor completely softened as she registered what was actually there: A much healthier looking, and evidently still very pregnant, Bella Swan.

The sight actually bewildered her. And as soon as she was trusted enough to be released, she darted over to my side and immediately began searching for the proverbial "catch" to this apparent miracle.

Finding nothing incriminating on my person as she scrutinized me from head to toe, she finally looked me dead in the eyes and asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm great actually," I affirmed in a strong, clear voice.

Delicately, I lifted the hem of my over-sized shirt. I warmly stroked my huge, bruise-less belly to really hit home that all was well and neither of us had been harmed.

Rosalie stared down at my completely healed, bulging abdomen with a wondrous and slightly envious gleam in her eyes. Her gaze didn't break from it for a second, until my next words.

"Aro's been a huge help," I added with a glowing expression.

The man himself beamed like I'd lavished upon him the highest of praises.

And Carlisle and Esme both nodded with small smiles on their faces toward their surrogate daughter to let her know that they agreed with my assessment.

But Rosalie didn't look terribly convinced. Instead of mirroring the other's optimistic faces, she squinted skeptically at Aro as if still suspecting some kind of foul play to be at work here.

"No really!" I waved my hands enthusiastically back and forth to try and convey that Rosalie's fears were completely unfounded. "He suggested that, you know, since my baby is part-vampire, that we should try a… er… vampire diet instead," I explained.

I rolled my shirt back down. Then I flicked one hand energetically towards the jumbled pile of empty Styrofoam cups sitting atop the glass coffee table. "And what do you know, it works!"

Rosalie's skeptical gaze slowly wandered over toward the opaque objects I'd indicated. She took a tiny sniff of the clean air around them. Then instantly recoiled in horror.

Rosalie leveled a scandalized glare at me. "You drank blood?!" she demanded with an inflection that would have been more appropriate if I'd roasted alive and eaten small children. " _Human_ blood?" she clarified with evident disgust.

Her outrage shocked me—I mean, I knew that drinking human blood was a huge no-no for the Cullens. But no one had died. Actually, it had helped save two lives. So I didn't see what the big deal was.

Yes it was a little odd, considering that I was still human. And thinking about the rather cannibalistic ramifications too deeply made me feel a little guilty. But now that I'd finally sated my baby's thirst, I was starting to feel better about the practice. I figured I could get used to it.

So why was she so upset? And what did she want me to say? That it was an awful experience that I never wanted to repeat? That I'd changed my mind about the whole becoming-a-vampire thing as a result?

Rosalie kept staring me down, as if expecting me to try and offer some feeble excuse for why I'd done something obviously atrocious. But since I was at a total loss for what she needed to hear, I remained silent, figuring that was the best option for avoiding her ire.

Realizing after a few seconds that she wasn't going to get anything out of me, Rosalie rapidly spun back around to face Aro. As she turned, the long skirt of her glitzy dress flared out around her.

"How could you?!" Rosalie pressed angrily. She took a few steps around the couch to face him properly before she continued with her furious allegation. "Making a murderer out of my sister!"

 _Oh. Crap. Rosalie thought that Aro had killed somebody to provide me with this blood._ Automatically I opened my mouth to correct her. _That's not…_

I desperately wanted to explain that she had completely misunderstood. But although the words were on the tip of my tongue, Carlisle interceded first.

"Rosalie, the blood Bella drank came from the hospital," he calmly clarified. "I set some O negative aside for Bella in case her… 'delivery' does not go well."

Carlisle's words seemed to achieve their intended effect of stopping Rosalie's potentially murderous pursuit of Aro. She folded her porcelain arms defiantly across her chest, however. And frowned on one side of her mouth to convey that she was not yet entirely convinced.

Carlisle went on. "We used some of that O negative in the cups." He pointed at the incriminating objects.

Rosalie momentarily looked towards the Styrofoam cylinders scathingly. Then she re-affixed her eyes coldly on her surrogate father.

"No humans were harmed," Carlisle promised.

Rosalie still wasn't satisfied. So after an exasperated sigh, Carlisle continued to explain. He spent several minutes laying out the entire story of what had transpired since she left, so that Rosalie didn't jump to any more unpleasant conclusions about Aro's motives or anything else.

Once he was finished regaling her with the tale, Rosalie finally gave a small nod to indicate that she understood. She looked ready to accept recent developments, especially since I seemed to be doing a _lot_ better than before as a result.

At least she looked that way until, utterly without warning, her subtly warming expression turned frigid again.

"Why not just have Emmett wrestle a grizzly bear for her?" she caustically asked. "Why would you make her drink _that…"_ she pointed towards the pile of white cups "…when you could have—?"

"Because if the child is anything like the father, the child would not have been satisfied with animal blood," Aro interjected matter-of-factly.

This statement earned him a particularly livid look from the younger blonde woman.

"I mean no disrespect towards your… _dietary choices,_ " Aro politely defended, with only a tinge of revulsion. _"_ I simply think it is safer for both Isabella and the child to stick with what we know our kind finds palatable," he added logically.

"It is bizarre enough that full-vampires are able to retain their strength on such a nutritionally deficient substance," Aro noted with obvious confusion at that fact. "There is no telling how this… hybrid infant, might react, however."

 _Nutritionally deficient? I guess Edward did say it was like living on only tofu,_ I reluctantly conceded, even though the idea of animal blood being unhealthy somehow made me very uncomfortable.

 _If that really is the case though, if animal blood really is "lacking in nutrients" like Aro says, that's probably not the best thing health-wise for anyone, let alone a growing baby. Mothers of human babies take pre-natal and natal vitamins for a reason. So it probably wouldn't be a smart move to deprive him. Especially when he's a new species that might react less positively to deprivation._ I didn't want my baby to develop deformities or something because I'd neglected to nourish him properly.

Agreeing with Aro's rational thinking, I nodded.

But Rosalie looked completely unaffected by his attempts at persuasion. Instead her pale eyebrows only furrowed deeper. And her perky nose wrinkled in revulsion.

"Why don't we try it, then?" she challenged.

To prove her point, Rosalie moved quickly towards the sliding glass back door. It looked like she intended to make a run for the forest. Like she was about to bring back a grizzly for me to drink from.

The prospect of Rosalie dragging some messy dead animal into the house, which was so impossibly clean right now, made me feel very uncomfortable. Not to mention that I wasn't really in the mood to drink any more blood, animal or human, thanks to the rather large meal Aro and Carlisle had jointly provided.

So I immediately sought to stop her.

"Um, can we do this later? I'm kind of full right now." I was desperately hoping that Rosalie would take the bait and agree to drop the issue, at least for a while.

With a loud huff, and one last dark look in Aro's direction, Rosalie reluctantly stepped away from the door. She threw herself down on the opposite couch in a dramatic fashion. "Fine. But next time you're thirsty, we try animal blood first."

"I do not think that is wise…" Aro began cautiously. He didn't want to irritate Rosalie any more than necessary. But he obviously felt those words needed to be said.

"If the child were to react poorly…" Aro shuddered faintly. Then his aristocratic features warped into an expression of deep pain. "...he or she might harm Isabella…" he explained, making it clear that the idea of me getting hurt, even in a relatively minor way, was completely horrifying to him.

"Don't worry about me," I cut in. "I can handle a few kicks," I assured him with a smile that was meant to be encouraging.

But my argument was weak, given that Aro had witnessed firsthand one of the blows I was referencing. And he clearly did not agree that I had "handled" it.

Sure I had _survived_ the immensely painful injuries my poor, hungry baby had inflicted. But they had been very serious. Not something to be casually brushed off like scraped knees.

Eager for a more practiced physician's opinion on the wiseness of Rosalie's demand, Aro turned to his left to face the blond doctor.

"You know the effects of an animal blood diet more intimately than I do. Do you believe it will be dangerous to Isabella and the infant?"

"I don't see any harm in trying just once," Carlisle shared.

Apparently he was not too worried that a single encounter would significantly impact my baby's health, much to Rosalie's delight and Aro's displeasure.

"Nutritional deficiencies take time to cause any ill effects," Carlisle offered scientifically. His kind topaz eyes seemed to add the implication that if anything went wrong, of course he would have me switch back to a diet of human blood immediately.

"Not to mention the infant will likely find animal blood just as unsatisfactory as we do," he finished in an effort to placate Aro.

Which appeared quite successful. The fact that Carlisle seemed quite opposed to the idea of denying my innocent baby nourishment made an enormous white smile split across Aro's face. A smile that was frankly a little unnerving.

But I was much more concerned with Carlisle's easy admission that his humane way of life was somehow inferior in the vitamin department. And the fact that the way he said "unsatisfactory" made me think he meant more than just "not tasty".

 _Had the Cullens neglected to mention something important about how animal blood negatively impacted vampires as a species?_ I fearfully wondered. _Or was I just blowing things out of proportion?_

I already knew that animal blood wasn't anything to write home about, unlike human blood, which I now knew for myself to be insanely delicious. But beyond that, Edward hadn't really said much. He'd focused more on trying to scare me off with metaphors about how tempting _my blood_ was in particular than on telling me specifically what made the rest of vampirekind so averse to a different way of life.

 _Was it possible that Aro had good reasons for sticking to his old ways in spite of knowing of an alternative?_ I started to think.

Warily, I turned my eyes on him. I specifically focused on his ruby-red irises as if expecting that they would reveal the truth about Aro's dietary choices if I gazed at them long enough. Not surprisingly his eyes alone told me nothing, except how recently he'd fed.

And as soon as Aro noticed that I was staring, I looked away in embarrassment rather than allowing our eyes to lock.

Oblivious to my inner fears, and the brief, awkward glance between Aro and I, Carlisle continued, "And based on her response to the O negative… I doubt Bella will be thrilled with the taste."

"Her response?" Rosalie cast dubious glances between myself and Carlisle as though she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Isabella has found she quite enjoys the taste of human blood," Aro decided to answer in Carlisle's stead. His lips spread even wider, if that was even possible. And his crimson eyes glittered with undisguised glee at the prospect that I'd found his preferred dinner to my liking.

"She reacted to it much as one of us would." Aro gestured grandly to the entire room, as though the euphoric feelings that had flooded my body when I drank out of those Styrofoam cups were universal to vampirekind.

And then he boldly flicked out his tongue to theatrically lick his lips. It was a visual representation of him unabashedly savoring the same, heavenly taste.

For some reason, the gesture made my face start to feel extremely hot—probably because those same lips he licked had touched my knuckles not too long ago. And for some completely irrational reason I couldn't help but imagine that apparently quite flexible tongue trailing over my skin too. Across my cheek… over my earlobe… down my neck… lower…

As I realized that I was thinking these things about _Aro_ of all people, the heat in my cheeks burned twice as hot. And I swore you could have fried two eggs against them with how steamed up I was.

Fortunately, no one else seemed to notice how close the color of my cheeks were to matching the shade of Aro's eyes.

Esme and Carlisle were too busy looking disturbed at Aro's recent ode-to-the-splendor-of-human-blood. They seemed to be wondering if they should say something to counteract his statements, given the fact that they wanted me to join their lifestyle once I was fully transformed.

And Rosalie was too busy staring unblinkingly ahead, completely dumbfounded by Aro's words, and horrified by his behavior.

"You shouldn't be so surprised. The child Isabella carries is the progeny of an immortal after all," Aro smoothly explained, as though that reason alone ought to account for everything else.

Rosalie didn't agree. "But…"

Carlisle held up a halting hand. "Let it go, Rosalie," he said in a voice that was almost pleading. "Bella has agreed to try our diet next time. We can discuss these things again after Aro reads the child's thoughts about the experience," he added as a compromise of sorts.

"Until then, can we please not argue over this?" Carlisle pleaded. "I completely understand your desire to passionately defend this way of life that we have chosen. But even for me this argument has become tiring," he admitted with an exasperated sigh.

This admission caused Aro's eyebrows to raise significantly.

I too was shocked that Carlisle would say such a thing. _Surely one could never tire of standing up for the right thing? Right?_

Rosalie was also surprised. But she looked appalled, too. Her mouth was halfway open in rebuttal of her father's remarks when Carlisle abruptly cut her off.

"Aro is not going to change his mind, Rosalie," Carlisle announced with all the certainty of a scientist declaring that tomorrow the sun would rise. "We've both tried to sway the other for _centuries_ ad nauseam," he explained. His extreme annoyance with having rehashed the same justifications for his unorthodox ways over and over and over again were clearly bleeding through in his words.

"He does and will continue to believe that his ways are superior. And from a strictly vampire health-related standpoint, he's right."

I gasped. _What?_

"But he—!"

"Don't interrupt me, Rosalie," Carlisle sternly reprimanded without raising his voice. Instead he relied on a forbidding hand to do the job before he continued. "Aro and I..." he gestured to his friend, "...have different priorities," he said surprisingly without any trace of ire. "Personally I value human life more than I value the perks that come with a balanced diet."

Despite Carlisle's earlier warning against interrupting him, Rosalie couldn't help but snort. "Of course you do. Valuing human life is obviously the most logical option."

"Rosalie, you must remember that this is not a normal way of thinking for our kind," Carlisle patiently lectured.

His words made Esme stiffen. She dipped her head in what looked like shame for some reason.

Carlisle's words also made Aro's eyebrows inch even further up his forehead. He looked astonished that his friend was admitting this out loud after so many years.

"Despite all my attempts to prove the contrary, after centuries I must concede it _is_ unnatural," Carlisle declared with a defeated shrug. "Every instinct in our bodies compels us to seek out and devour human blood." He pointed to himself as he said this, making it clear that even he was not immune to these feelings. "Don't try to deny it, Rosalie."

To my horror, Rosalie didn't. The instant Carlisle began speaking of "instincts" her defiantly open mouth had snapped audibly shut. Now she too, like Esme, had turned to gaze dejectedly at the floor like she knew exactly what he was talking about, and was too ashamed of its ramifications to say anything more.

This was not the direction I had expected this conversation to go. And all of the things the kind doctor was saying were making my head spin.

 _Aro's diet is superior health-wise? Perks that come with a balanced diet? What perks? Drinking animal blood is unnatural? How? What does he mean by that? And valuing human life isn't normal? What on earth…?_

My jaw felt ready to unhinge. _Who is this man, and what has he done with Carlisle Cullen?_

But that's when Carlisle suddenly switched his tone. "We resist this fundamental drive because we view the rewards worth the sacrifice," He declared, clearly speaking of everyone in his coven when he said "we".

"I can think of nothing more worthy of sacrificing for than the preservation of human life," Carlisle added stalwartly.

I sighed in relief— _this was the Carlisle I knew._ The one who's unconditional love for humanity in spite of all the forces against him still triumphed.

"Unnatural or not, unhealthy or not, I will do whatever it takes to achieve that end."

His strong words were heartening. But as Carlisle made this bold promise, I recalled the tragic story of his first few months after his transformation. Months which he had spent deeply hating himself and supposing that his only option to protect the innocent townspeople from his voracious appetite was suicide.

It was an awful tale which made me feel horrible pity for the man in that dark, hopeless time of his life. But it was a necessary story to tell because it really drove home just how committed Carlisle was to his humanitarian efforts. The doctor would rather _die_ than intentionally harm a human being. That was simply who he was.

But that wasn't who everyone was.

I wasn't even sure if that was who _I_ was. When push came to shove, was I really so averse to the idea of some completely stranger dying that I would rather endure the unfathomable pain that Carlisle had during the first part of his newborn year? Possibly even to the point of death?

It terrified me that I couldn't be sure.

"But I won't force others to do the same," Carlisle affirmed in open acknowledgement of what I had been thinking.

Not everyone was willing to make the same sacrifices he was. Even the other Cullens had all made "mistakes". Or in Rosalie's case, killed humans for reasons other than blood.

"We've all seen how that turns out…" Carlisle reminded everyone present in a somber tone.

Finally I decide to contribute my thoughts. "You mean with… Edward." I flinched slightly as his name left my trembling lips. "How he left for those ten years to hunt criminals…?"

"Yes," Carlisle answered gravely.

I took his words to mean that I wasn't the only one whom Edward's recent abandonment had hurt. Poor Carlisle had known and loved Edward like his own son for far longer than I had known and loved him. And the fact that Edward had ran away from the doctor once before and had created a full decade of painful memories associated with his absence in Carlisle's mind didn't help matters either.

I actually felt kind of bad for assuming I had it the worst. Edward's leaving affected all of us.

"But he was not the only one to disagree with this lifestyle after I changed him," Carlisle suddenly revealed. "He was, however, the only one who returned."

Carlisle's words harshly shook me from my dark inner thoughts. Staggered by this information I blinked once. Twice. "Wait… I'm confused… There were… others? Former vegetarians? Why didn't you tell me?"

 _Carlisle transformed_ _ **more**_ _people into vampires?_ I thought. _People who left the Cullens for good and now hunted humans, despite his teachings?_

Esme's topaz eyes were suddenly a lot whiter than I remembered them being. They looked glossy like they were filled with some kind of thick fluid that couldn't escape.

Carlisle abashedly scratched his neck. "You never asked." he weakly justified with a sheepish look. But his demeanor had very clearly shifted to one that was rather crushed. It seemed this was an emotionally draining topic that the entire family avoided talking about because it was too painful to discuss.

And just like that, I no longer blamed him for not bringing it up unsolicited.

Even Rosalie was uneasily shuffling her feet and avoiding eye contact with everyone in the room. She and Esme both very obviously appeared to want Carlisle to cease speaking about such sensitive matters.

Aro was the only one who appeared unaffected. And even he respectfully smoothed his wide smile into an impassive line and lost the gleeful air about him, not wanting to seem totally callous.

But I couldn't just let this revelation lie. Carlisle couldn't just drop a bomb like that on me and not expect questions. I needed to know more.

"How many?" I pleaded.

I rose from the couch to join the others in the entryway so that we could speak more directly with each other.

Carlisle hesitated for a moment. His sorrowful eyes searched out those of his mate and Rosalie's for approval before he decided to answer.

"Three," Carlisle breathed out at last in the same grievous tone as before. "Jonathan, Lizzy and Madelyn."

Immediately after these names were voiced, the two female vampires visibly hardened, freezing like statuary in all their refinery. Based on the reaction of Esme and Rosalie, I guessed those names were sort of taboo.

And that fact only made me more curious. _What on earth had happened with those three that made them so unspeakable?_


	8. Chapter 8: Broken Pedestals

**AN: I hope that I'm keeping this story moving at a good pace. I don't want to go too fast or too slow (I usually struggle more with the latter than the former) but there are some important things that need to be established before Bella and Aro really start to embark on the crazy journey called love. Any feedback is appreciated.**

* * *

 _…_

 _Above all, I must not play God._

 _(Modern Version of the Hippocratic Oath)_

 _…_

CHAPTER EIGHT: BROKEN PEDESTALS

With a deep, longing sigh, Carlisle indulged my curiosity further. "I transformed Jonathan in 1965," he began with a mournfully nostalgic voice, like he was talking about a son that had died.

"He'd been in a terrible car accident which had completely crushed his lower body. So I wasn't sure it would even work. But something about him reminded me of Edward," Carlisle explained.

"I can't say what it was, exactly. He was older, and brunette with piercing blue eyes; there wasn't any resemblance. But as he was lying there, dying on his hospital bed, the same feeling struck me. The need to do something beyond what human medicine could do. So I decided to try to save him."

 _Jonathan's story is so much like the others…_ I realized as Carlisle painfully retold it. _And it takes place after Alice and Jasper joined. How could I have just believed that Carlisle would stop trying to save people by supernatural means after Rosalie and Emmett? He never gave any reason why he wouldn't ever do something like that again._

"He was already sedated, so I knew he wouldn't thrash during the transformation," was Carlisle's technical justification for going through with it.

"And Alice, probably already aware that I would need it, had encouraged me earlier that day to prepare a syringe full of my venom which I had concealed in my pocket," Carlisle explained. His teeth clicked ever-so-slightly at the end of his sentence in a way that suggested to me that he recalled precisely what it felt like to extract his venom from them on that fateful day.

 _Of course Alice had told him to prepare a syringe,_ I thought. _That sounded just like her._

"It was a little risky, using that syringe to start his transformation in the hospital, rather than taking him elsewhere," Carlisle went on. He flickered a glance at Aro as he spoke, as if expecting the ancient to berate him for doing something so reckless.

But Aro said nothing. He simply waited patiently for Carlisle to continue. I surmised that he probably already understood, having seen Carlisle's memories, that nothing bad had come of it.

"But the other doctors were too busy trying to stop the bleeding happening near his legs. And so many medicines were being administered to numb the pain and clot his blood. So none of the other doctors thought anything was odd about me injecting something into his arm." Carlisle told us.

"He had so many deep, open wounds... I feared he might bleed out during the transformation. But he didn't." The doctor breathed a tiny sigh of relief after he said this. The high emotions of the event must be resurfacing somewhat as he recalled it.

"When his heart stopped, I kept him under with a very strong sedative for a few more days to let his family have a proper funeral," the doctor explained. "Astonishingly, it worked."

Carlisle almost sounded as surprised by this fact as I was.

"Sedatives work on vampires?" I asked.

"Only very recently transformed ones. There needs to be blood left in their tissues to carry the chemicals through the body," Carlisle clarified. "And the morphine I gave him did nothing for the pain—it just kept him still," he made sure to add so that I didn't get any ideas about trying to avoid the fiery sensation I knew accompanied transformation with the aid of modern medicine.

 _Damn it. It seems like facing the scorching agony of vampire venom again is inevitable._

"I had to give him _very_ high doses for it to work," Carlisle related with a gloomy expression. "And the day after the funeral, I had to go dig him back up." His eyes were suddenly downcast and abruptly lifeless, indicating that his time in the graveyard had been an unpleasant experience.

I grimaced at the thought of Carlisle having to desecrate a grave. As a pious man, doing such a sacrilegious thing as disturbing what was supposed to be a resting place for the dead must have made him quite uncomfortable.

Though being a vampire made following some of his religious provisions impossible (he couldn't exactly participate in communion when bread and wine made him puke), in general, Carlisle liked to be respectful of holy spaces. He had once confessed to me that the biggest reason he didn't actually attend local church meetings was not out of concern for keeping his secret, (the reason he avoided most social functions). Rather it was because most churches had been blessed to "ward of evil". And although he tried to be his best, as a vampire, he was pretty sure he would count.

And if he was _that_ sensitive about just walking into a church building… I could only imagine how terrible he must have felt about disrupting sanctified burial ground.

"That must have been awful," I sympathized.

Carlisle gently shook his head. "The digging wasn't the worst part," he countered with a solemn voice.

I guessed he wasn't terribly concerned about reopening a grave that didn't actually have a dead person in it.

"It was finding Jonathan very much awake, and _very thirsty,_ when I opened his casket."

Automatically I winced at his words. The picture Carlisle's description conjured in my head wasn't pretty.

Before the battle with the newborns this summer, Jasper had explained to me just how all-consuming and intense bloodthirst was for the first year of vampirism. It still wasn't something I totally grasped, since I tended to learn best from experience. But I think I got the gist that it made you completely insane and turned even some of the nicest men into remorseless murderers overnight.

And delaying its satisfaction only made it worse. So I could only imagine that when Jonathan awoke from his morphine-induced coma, that he was totally parched after having been denied blood for several days. His throat must have been aflame with the worst white-hot pain in the world.

"Jonathan panicked and attacked me at first, not knowing what else to do," Carlisle said sadly. He sounded as though he had felt more pitying than hurt at the time, knowing firsthand just how terrifying and disorienting awaking as a vampire was.

I was about to ask if Carlisle had been injured by this savage newborn. But just before I could open my mouth, the doctor's face suddenly grew even darker, signaling that his story was about to get much worse.

"I didn't expect him to listen to me," Carlisle expounded. The incredulous lilt in his voice suggested that even now, he found it hard to believe that Jonathan, in the midst of such intense hunger, had paused to hear him out. "But once I explained to him what was going on—that I had transformed him into a vampire—he immediately tried to seek out someone to satisfy his thirst."

Aro's lip unconsciously quirked upwards the faintest bit on one side, amused at Jonathan's instinctual response. Though he desperately fought to school it back into an impassive line for Carlisle's sake.

Momentarily I felt affronted that Aro would be delighted by this news. But I was too eager to understand why seeking _human_ blood was Jonathan's first reaction after _Carlisle_ had talked to him, to say anything.

"Some _one_...? Didn't you explain that you drank animal blood?"

"I did," Carlisle quickly agreed, nodding his head vigorously. His face soured significantly after this remark, however, like his next words were again going to be a huge disappointment. "But he already knew he was craving something else."

"It isn't hard to guess…." He trailed off uneasily, swallowing heavily before he finished in a somber voice. "Especially once you smell it."

 _Especially once you smell it._ I wasn't even a vampire yet, but as soon as I had caught a whiff of the O negative Carlisle had nicely warmed up for me, I had immediately known that it was what my baby and I wanted. Just talking about it had started to make my mouth water and my stomach growl with want. And as soon as the delightful aroma had reached my nostrils, all doubt of its nutritional value had fled my mind. It smelled heavenly.

And it tasted even better… It was kind of frightening to think about, actually—that human blood had such a powerful effect on me already. And I could only assume that those feelings were enhanced tenfold for fully-fledged vampires, a thought which sent my head reeling.

 _Could anything possibly be that desirable?_

As I was struggling to imagine what the experience of drinking human blood as a vampire must be like, I suddenly realized something was off about Carlisle's story.

"There was someone else in the cemetery," I commented flatly.

"Not when I started digging, but by the time I finished, yes," Carlisle stipulated.

He made sure that I knew that he wasn't intentionally careless enough to unleash a ravenous vampire in the vicinity of a hapless human being.

Which should have been obvious, really—Carlisle was neither neglectful enough for "checking for humans" to slip his mind. Nor heartless enough to not care if one was killed. So of course he had made sure the coast was clear, at first.

"I had made sure to incapacitate the guard who was supposed to be on duty that night," he assured me.

Carlisle didn't elaborate on how he managed to do this. But I had no doubts that as a doctor and a fundamentally humane person that he had used a method that didn't cause any lasting damage. He probably didn't just whack the man upside the head with his shovel and drag him outside of the cemetery gates. That was so not his style.

"However, I had not anticipated that another would take over his shift. And the decision was made too quickly for Alice to warn me..." Carlisle said before burying his face in his hands in utter shame for not foreseeing this.

I swallowed thickly as I realized what that meant.

"And there was nothing I could do to stop Jonathan…" Carlisle lamented. "He was newborn after all…"

I visibly winced as I remembered what Jasper had said about their strength. There was absolutely no way that Carlisle alone could have physically restrained Jonathan in the event that Jonathan wanted to feed. By all accounts the instinct to hunt was nigh-insurmountable at first. And with almost three times as much raw power to his name, thanks to the human blood still supercharging his body, Carlisle didn't stand a chance.

"Did he… did he blame you for letting him… you know…?" … _Rip his teeth into an innocent human being and suck them dry?_

Carlisle immediately understood what I was alluding to without explicitly saying it out loud. "No. He wasn't upset," he revealed with a miserable shake of his head. "In fact, he thought I'd lured the man there _on purpose_."

Carlisle shuddered in utter revulsion at the idea—it was a full-body quivering affair.

"He was… _grateful_." Carlisle shuddered again. Evidently he was thoroughly sickened at the prospect of being thanked for being an accessory to murder.

I shuddered too. Carlisle would never do that.

Once he'd finally recomposed himself, Carlisle cleared his throat and quickly finished his tale. "Once we returned home, I tried to remind Jonathan that we did things differently. That we hunted animals instead of humans."

The operative word in that sentence seemed to be "tried". Carlisle's morose expression already told me that it wasn't successful.

"But when we took him hunting with us for the first time, he found he wasn't… _fond_ of the experience." The doctor's lips twisted into an even deeper frown.

"I attempted to convince him to keep trying. But he never hunted animals again."

 _Never again._ That was a pretty staunch refusal in my opinion. And rather unwarranted.

But then again, I had never tasted animal blood. And I was starting to believe I shouldn't make any hasty judgments about those who found it distasteful, until I tried it. Edward had compared it to tofu. But perhaps that was simply the nastiest edible thing he could think of at the moment. Or he was being rather generous.

Whatever may be the case, the bottom line was that I absolutely refused to be a hypocrite. And I was starting to worry, based on Carlisle's story, that I might not be suited to his lifestyle.

If it wasn't for everyone…

"What happened to Jonathan after that?" I asked, curious to know where he had disappeared to, since he evidently was not staying with the Cullens.

"He's still around as far as I know," Carlisle revealed with a twinge more optimism. It sounded like idea that Jonathan was still in existence somewhere made the doctor quite happy, despite their disagreements.

"He left a few months after I transformed him, when it became clear that we wouldn't be getting along very well with our different diets."

Carlisle and Aro briefly exchanged knowing glances after this remark. The pair knew intimately how difficult living together was when their philosophies about the value of human life clashed so vibrantly.

The doctor turned away after a few seconds and softly cleared his throat again. "Jonathan joined a small coven in Canada not long after that. And that's where he's been ever since," Carlisle informed me. "He used to write us occasionally to let us know how things were going... But he hasn't sent a letter in decades."

 _Hasn't sent a letter in decades?_ "But you said he was still around…"

A lack of communication that long seemed to suggest to me that Carlisle's Jonathan was dead, though I didn't dare say so out loud. Esme's strangely glossy eyes (the vampire equivalent of crying, I guessed) didn't look like they could handle it as it was. And I really didn't want to be the one who caused her pretty little eye sockets to burst from all the pressure of unreleased tears.

"It's not uncommon for vampires to not speak to one another for long periods of time," Carlisle assured me in a warm voice, easily comprehending my fears and abating them. "I'm not worried about him. He's immortal now. And Aro would have let me know if he'd gotten into trouble."

Aro nodded immediately to convey his agreement. "Carlisle may have been unsuccessful at convincing Jonathan to dine as he does. But he did not fail to instill in him a respect for our laws. I've never had any trouble with him," Aro chipped in, mostly for my benefit, since everyone else seemed to already be aware of this.

"And the other two? Lizzy and Madelyn?" I asked, recalling that Carlisle had mentioned others who had presumably once been inducted into his coven, and later abandoned it to subsist on a the traditional vampire diet. "What happened to them?"

"It's very much the same story," Carlisle said wistfully.

He tenderly reached for and squeezed Esme's hand to comfort her as she buried her face into his shoulder. She silently sobbed into his sleeve, suggesting to me that there were some details about the closeness of her relationship with Jonathan that Carlisle had neglected to mention.

I guess even if their time together was brief, Esme still saw him as family.

"But whereas Jonathan was twenty-two when I turned him, Lizzy was only fifteen. And Madelyn was thirty-six," Carlisle informed me.

Remembering that Carlisle had once said that he had never transformed anyone who wasn't about to perish anyway, I felt it appropriate to ask, "How did they die?"

Rosalie twitched.

But Carlisle made no indication that my question surprised or appalled him. He calmly answered, "I'm not sure about Lizzy. She didn't want to talk about it."

"So you don't have any idea what happened?" I prodded, my curiosity getting the best of me. Even though Carlisle's hesitation should have warned me that I really didn't want to know.

"My best guess is that she'd been forced into prostitution," Carlisle relented with a sigh. "And in 1968 she had been…" He paused for a moment as though considering the most delicate way to describe the situation. "…pressured into a back-alley abortion gone terribly wrong," he settled on finally.

Recalling some of the more graphic pictures Angela had shared with me during her research of the topic of illegal abortions for a school paper, and having Edward recently threaten to perform a similar operation on me against my will, I felt like I was going to puke. I clutched my blissfully napping baby with a bear-like protectiveness.

What an awful thing to have to endure.

"The state I found her in was… _ghastly_ …"

Carlisle buried his head in his hands for a few moments again. This time, it was to mourn the horribleness humanity could sometimes display, rather than his own shortcomings. He looked so completely distraught by what he had seen. No wonder he was so firmly averse to the idea of aborting my baby against my will.

After a moment he composed himself, shaking away the violent memories, and went on. "I was almost ready to just let her go," Carlisle confessed. "Allowing her to die would be merciful after the horror she'd been through."

His words reminded me that Carlisle very firmly believed in a benevolent God and a beautiful afterlife for all but the most heinous people. I wasn't sure how I felt about all that stuff—I kind of figured I would deal with any afterlife or lack thereof when I died. But I did understand that from Carlisle's point of view, letting Lizzy go to heaven would be the right thing to do. Physically and emotionally broken as she was, keeping her alive and forcing her to try and rehabilitate would be torturous.

Not to mention it was an effort that was unlikely to be appreciated, if Rosalie's reaction to having been rescued from a similarly violated, and near-dead state was any indication.

"However, just as she was about to slip from this world, Lizzy grabbed my arm with a ferocity I will never forget, and begged me to do all I could to save her," Carlisle told me.

He sounded like he had been just as surprised at the time as I was by her actions now.

"So as soon as we were alone, I did. And she was very grateful. She never once regretted asking that of me." Carlisle shrugged as though this baffled him.

I got the impression that, despite choosing the most humane route of existence he could, Carlisle was still a little uncomfortable being a vampire, so he probably couldn't imagine feeling as Lizzy did.

"I suppose immortality suited her a lot better than mortality ever had," he offered uncertainly.

But it wasn't hard for me to understand why, even if Carlisle didn't completely get it. Being a vampire seemed to mean that suffering abuse was a lot less common. Humans certainly couldn't hurt her anymore. And vampires didn't seem to be very interested in trafficking and oppressing their own kind. At least, not that I knew of.

"And… Madelyn?" I carefully probed, hoping that her story wasn't nearly as grisly as Lizzy's.

"Madelyn was poisoned by her husband," Carlisle answered matter-of-factly.

"What?!" _Poisoned by her husband?_ I couldn't have heard that right…

"He only married her for her fortune," Carlisle quickly specified, to let me know that this unnamed husband had never actually loved Madelyn. Instead he was nothing more than a filthy gold-digger and a total cad.

The doctor continued to explain as politely as he could, "As a human, Madelyn was… not the prettiest…" His tone of voice led me to believe that this Madelyn was in reality quite ugly. "And since so many people are rather shallow, it was hard for her to find love."

Carlisle sighed. "The man who eventually poisoned her was the first man that appeared to genuinely reciprocate her feelings, rather than reacting with disgust. And although it was all an act, understandably, she fell for it."

I nodded to indicate that I understood. It was tragic, but I couldn't fault Madelyn for wanting to believe someone genuinely cared about her. To live a life absent of love... was an awful fate.

"Her husband never wanted her—just her money. So after all the papers were signed to give him access to her wealth, he slowly poisoned her through her food over the course of several months." Carlisle paused in his telling of the story to make sure I was following.

At my hurried nod, he gravely continued. "And when there was finally enough toxins in Madelyn's system to kill her, he left town so that he wouldn't be around when she died."

I gasped in horror. I'd heard of things like this happening in movies. But I'd never stopped to consider that there were real villains out there who would do such a thing outside of the realm of fantasy. The thought of being tricked into love, only to be callously left to die, was an abominable one.

At least, I felt that way, until I realized that Edward, my husband, had done a similar thing to me. Certainly he hadn't been intending to kill me from the get go, (my pregnancy was most definitely an accident). But he _had_ abandoned me when he believed I was going to perish. And the parallels between my story and Madelyn's were disturbing nonetheless…

Carlisle went on as soon as he sensed that I was ready to hear the rest of the tale. "But while Madelyn may not have been the easiest on the eyes, she was incredibly bright. As soon as she began to feel sick, she knew what had happened. And very bravely she telephoned me."

This bit of information surprised me. "Telephoned you? Directly?"

"She knew me rather well, since I'd helped take care of her invalid older sister for several years," Carlisle offered as her reasoning for knowing his telephone number and feeling comfortable dialing it instead of 911 in such a dire time of need. "And, unbeknownst to me, she had actually already figured out that I wasn't human."

Feeling panicked all of a sudden, my head whirled around on my neck to see Aro's reaction to this news. To see if the ancient was going to punish the Cullen patriarch for revealing his secret before the woman's transformation. Or not, since she had been transformed.

When our eyes locked, however—chocolate brown peering into crimson—it was clear to me that Carlisle's three-thousand-year-old friend wasn't concerned about this at all.

"Madelyn wasn't sure at the time _exactly_ what I was," Carlisle stipulated upon seeing my reaction. "She just knew that I was different. That I didn't need sleep. That I avoided the sun. And that I didn't eat anything in public."

 _So she was observant._ _Like I was with Edward once I'd started to really scrutinize him._

But unlike me, she didn't have a Jacob Black to unwittingly push her research in the right direction. So all she was left with were misplaced theories, some of them probably just as ridiculous as mine had been.

And there was nothing wrong with theories, as long as no-one said the v-word.

"Since Madelyn insisted that she wanted to see me and no other doctor, I came as quickly as I could," Carlisle said. "But by that time she was already fading."

He sounded quite melancholy over the fact that he hadn't managed to arrive at her home any quicker. But I really didn't see any reason for him to be. He'd done his absolute best—Carlisle never did anything less—and that was all anyone could ever ask.

"In her last moments she asked me… to make her like me, if that was possible," Carlisle continued.

His recollection of Madelyn's bold request caused me to gasp again, though this time in astonishment rather than fright.

"Not knowing that she knew, I was initially very confused. But it quickly became obvious that she knew I was not human.

 _That must have been an interesting conversation_ , I thought. _A woman dying from poison trying to explain before she faded away that she had noticed certain things about Carlisle over the years that made her believe he was something supernatural. And that she wanted to be the same if there was a way._

"I tried to explain that she might not want this—that she would crave human blood and possibly kill," Carlisle recalled with a grimace. A grimace which clearly told me that since that time she had, in fact, done both of those things since her transformation.

"She didn't care," he revealed with an energetic shake of his head. "She begged me. I…" Carlisle trailed off, looking down at his hands like they were alien appendages. Like he was some kind of pathetic monster for agreeing to her request when she clearly didn't really understand what she was asking for.

"I couldn't refuse her," he acknowledged with a tone of defeat.

I gave Carlisle a moment to wallow in needless guilt before I hesitantly asked my next question. "Did Lizzy and Madelyn ever try animal blood?"

Carlisle nodded once, slowly. "Lizzy did. And she had much the same reaction as Jonathan," he expounded with a heavy sigh. His shoulders slumped and his arms hung limply at his sides like he felt her rejection of animal blood was somehow his fault.

"She also joined the coven in Canada three years after Jonathan."

 _I wonder how big that coven in Canada is_ , I thought. _Edward said it was unusual for vampires to congregate in groups larger than two, but I've never heard anything from the others to suggest that that is true. No one else thought it was surprising that Victoria and James traveled with Laurent. And every other coven I've met thus far has contained at least five people..._

"But Madelyn… she never did try animal blood," Carlisle sighed, running his fingers through his hair in self-frustration. "She took one whiff and ran the other way. Told me she preferred to hunt criminals."

Carlisle clutched his temples like the memory caused him physical pain.

Aro affectionately patted Carlisle's free shoulder—that is, the one Esme wasn't shaking against—to let his friend know that he didn't fault the doctor at all for that turn of events. After a few seconds, the taller blonde finally began to relax under the elder vampire's comforting touch.

"Unlike Edward, Madelyn has to do a lot of research to find felons or catch them in the act," Carlisle decided to inform me, since I was familiar with Edward's method of using his telepathy to seek out guilty prey during his rebellious phase.

"But that's all she's ever eaten. She doesn't hunt innocents," he declared with a small measure of pride.

I suppose he felt that this was at least a partial victory. And a sign that his attempts to instill humanity into his dissenting vampiric offspring weren't entirely unsuccessful.

But the fact that Carlisle felt "not hunting innocents" was an important thing to highlight about Madelyn's story didn't make me feel much better.

"But Lizzy and Jonathan do," I clarified aloud. That was the implication, at least.

Carlisle wrung his hands uncomfortably and slowly nodded. "Probably."

 _"I don't watch them hunt so I can't say for sure"_ was probably his excuse for not saying "yes" directly. But from what he'd told me, Jonathan at least didn't seem concerned with having killed a presumably innocent cemetery guard. And thanks to her lifetime of horrible experiences at their hands, Lizzy's opinion of humanity was probably so abysmal that she considered them all guilty regardless.

And Rosalie's rolling of her eyes at Carlisle's weak admission further solidified in my mind that "probably" meant "yes".

I gulped.

Aro's eyes snapped over toward me as he heard me swallow. But instead of grinning creepily as he sometimes did when the topic of killing people came up, he looked deeply concerned and a teensy bit confused.

Not about the fact that human death disturbed me. Based on his profuse apology earlier for offering to slaughter someone and feed me their blood, he knew quite well what my feelings were on that front. But about something else. And it was impossible from merely studying his perplexed face to understand precisely what it was.

After staring at each other in total silence for about thirty seconds, I finally looked away from Aro's mesmerizing complexion. My cheeks had started feeling rather hot for some reason.

I tried not to dwell on it—Carlisle was trying to make a point with these stories. And I needed to let him know that I understood.

"So what you're saying is... not everyone who has been introduced to your diet has stuck with it."

Carlisle nodded solemnly. "Very few find it bearable to live as we do," he admitted in a low voice. He sounded grieved at the fact that nature made it so difficult to dine humanely.

"Our cousins in Denali and I have invited many vampires, not just those we've transformed, but any who are willing to listen, to try our way of life over the centuries," Carlisle revealed. "You remember my explanation to Laurent?"

I bobbed my head vigorously. Of course I remembered that, because at the time it had struck me as terribly odd that Carlisle was trying to help someone affiliated with the enemy.

And I also remembered with how quickly Laurent had abandoned the lifestyle of the Denali clan. And how eager he'd been to drink my blood when he stumbled across me in the meadow.

 _Mouthwatering_ , he'd called me. I shivered just thinking about it.

While I fought to banish the deeply unnerving memories, Carlisle went on, "Just about every other vampire that crosses paths with us is curious about how we maintain a semi-permanent residence. And of course why our eyes are a different color."

This made sense—seeing a vampire with naturally gold eyes when you were accustomed to red was probably quite off-putting to the average member of the undead. And most covens had to keep moving to avoid human suspicion, so finding one that stayed put, at least for several years, was a novelty warranting explanation.

"I always offer the invitation to try our ways at the end of my account," the doctor revealed. "Many have taken me up on this offer, like Laurent did initially," he added brightly.

Though the warmth in Carlisle's tone was short-lived. "But out of the hundreds who have tried it, only the seven of us Cullens and the five living in Alaska have been able to maintain our so-called 'vegetarianism' long-term."

My jaw dropped. _Out of_ **_hundreds_**?

Carlisle looked quite bewildered by my reaction. "Animal blood does not fully satisfy our thirst," he stated as if it were a mundane and obvious fact, like stating the sky was blue.

But to me this was news. _Big news_.

"It gives us enough energy to get by. And the worst of the pain in our throats abates when we drink it." His pale fingers drifted to his neck, lightly brushing over the skin in a manner reminiscent of scratching. "But we're left with a constant gnawing feeling in our stomachs that never completely goes away." He gestured towards his belly with a scrunched expression on his face as he spoke.

"Not unless we drink human blood."

My face must have clearly showcased my astonishment, because after a moment of allowing this stunning information to sink in, Carlisle noted with a frown, "Edward said he explained this to you."

 _I guess he did. Sort of._ Thanks to my fallible human memory, I strained to recall if he'd ever mentioned these pivotal facts during his initial description of "vegetarianism" again. I did remember him saying the same kind of thing about animal blood not really being satisfying...

But I swore he hadn't mentioned that drinking it left him with a gnawing hunger in the background all the time which only drinking human blood would alleviate. He'd instead decided to soliloquize about how torturous it was to be around his own "personal heroin" as a recovering drug addict. How I in particular appealed to him, instead of how humans in general did.

I turned my wedding ring uneasily around my finger as I wondered why Edward had mitigated the appeal of all human blood. And I started to consider the remote possibility that he'd done so on purpose. That he'd intentionally left out the bit about stomach gnawing to convince me that he was more stable than he really was.

But that was just preposterous. After all his insistence that he was a dangerous monster, he wouldn't...

"It's different hearing you say it," I decided was my excuse. "You've never even tasted human blood befo—"

Carlisle immediately held up a hand to interrupt me. "I have never _killed_ for human blood," he corrected firmly.

His words made my eyes to widen to the size of silver dollars. _He couldn't mean..._

"I cannot avoid tasting at least _some_ when I bite to change someone," Carlisle reminded me in a serious tone.

Automatically I relaxed upon hearing this. _Oh right. Alice did mention that before._

But Carlisle wasn't finished. "And," he startled me by going on, " _Once_ , when the gnawing got especially fierce, I did… what you are doing to feed your child," he admitted, pointing toward the haphazard pile of Styrofoam cups still resting on the coffee table.

I waited for the caveat—that Carlisle had put something else in a cup and drank it than what he was alluding to. But it never came.

Instead, the Cullen patriarch cringed in embarrassment for having shared such a profound moment of weakness. And it soon became clear that he actually did mean what I thought. And he wasn't about to rescind his words.

I blinked twice in shock. "You mean..."

I couldn't finish my sentence. The mere idea of Carlisle having red eyes for any reason just didn't feel right. Even if it was only once. And even if that decision was prompted by incredible pain.

Carlisle nodded with a kicked-puppy looking his eyes that told me that he still beat himself up over it, even though no one had been harmed as a result.

"No one is more upset about that fact than I am, Bella," Carlisle admitted morosely. "But I always keep a little blood hidden somewhere in the house in case of an emergency," he told me. "It is preferable to drink from bags than to attack people, yes?"

"Of course," I answered immediately.

Aro flinched a little, probably feeling chastised for suggesting the latter first.

I ignored him and turned to the half-dressed blonde. "But Rosalie, you said..."

Rosalie sighed in annoyance. "We don't like to establish a dependence on human blood, bagged or not," she explained flatly with her arms crossed in front of her barely covered chest. "Besides, bagged blood is donated to help _humans_. Sure no one dies when we drink it. But the effort it took to produce it wasn't expended for _our_ benefit."

At my puzzled look, Rosalie added with a huff, "Drawing blood takes away human energy, Bella."

Her words conjured up images in my mind from the last blood drive sponsored at my high school. Images of endless plates of cookies and juice which were meant to help compensate for the significant loss of calories that drawing that much blood caused. Images that reminded me that Rosalie was right.

"People willingly give up that energy for the specific purpose of helping other humans," Rosalie insisted, staunchly putting her foot down on this one. "Not us monsters."

I opened my mouth to protest her disparaging self-designation. I didn't think of her as a monster. But her baleful glare made me instantly snap my lips shut.

"When we," she gestured to all the vampires in the room, "...take bagged blood home, we're _stealing_ ," she said in a tone that suggested thievery of that kind was almost just as despicable as murder.

I didn't agree that it was quite _that_ severe…. But I did understand why she might think it abominable to selfishly take someone else's sacrifice. From a certain perspective, it was like taking the Christmas presents donated to the poor. While you might appreciate having them, they weren't given up for you.

"And the supply of bagged blood is more irregular than the movies make you think," Rosalie added sourly. "There isn't enough for all the humans who need it _and_ us. Plus, they keep that stuff under lock and key. Breaking in or having Carlisle take enough to feed all of us on a regular basis would be extremely suspicious."

Aro nodded in response to this last observation of the gorgeous vampire in front of him. Clearly he agreed with the idea that stealing from blood banks consistently was a risky activity as far as maintaining the secrecy of the supernatural went.

Rosalie snorted at his gesture. Probably because _his_ solution to this conundrum was mightily different than hers.

"Not to mention that even with refrigeration, whole blood expires after a month!" Rosalie threw her hands up in the air to convey that, even if bagged blood could be regularly obtained without arousing suspicion, the paltry rewards were hardly worth the extreme effort.

"It's no good to us then," she spat, firsthand experience causing her nose to crinkle in disgust. "It's just impractical to eat that way," she announced with a shake of her head.

I think I was starting to understand her point of view and why she was so upset that Aro and Carlisle had provided me with human blood. "So... you think it should be for emergencies only..."

Rosalie nodded once. Then she lifted her still-crumpled nose slightly in the air in a gesture of superiority. "Yes. Only in dire times. Not as just regular food," she said with a vicious frown that caught me slightly off guard.

Warily, I staggered backwards a few steps from her irate form. I glanced pleadingly towards the others to see what they thought.

Distressingly, Carlisle and Esme both wore downcast faces that told me they believed Rosalie was right. It was then that I realized that drinking bagged human blood was only marginally less taboo in this house than traditional vampiric hunting of humans. It was something to be avoided if at all possible. And something to be ashamed of in the event that it became unavoidable. Not to be the first resort in a time of uncertainty.

When my worried eyes finally turned to Aro however, I felt pleased to find that he looked like he vehemently disagreed with Rosalie's thinking.

My reaction at first puzzled me. _Why should I be happy that this man sees nothing at all wrong with completely disregarding the interests of mortal people? Why should I be happy that he condones taking their blood (and often their lives too) on an alarmingly frequent basis?_

But as I turned over things in my mind, I realized that the only reason I found solace in Aro's position was because he was supporting me.

When Rosalie started to shriek at him for "brainwashing me to his side", Aro vocally defend my choices.

Since they had helped facilitate the process of feeding me human blood, I hoped that Carlisle and Esme would also come to my defense as Rosalie mercilessly slandered my name. But alarmingly they said nothing, opting to remain neutral in the verbal sparring that erupted.

Only Aro stood up for me.

It was obvious from his rebuttals to Rosalie's biting remarks that he whole-heartedly believed that my act of drinking donated human blood was completely blameless. Not to mention that it was the best possible thing for my child.

Amidst Rosalie's furious cries that we ought to have tried animal blood first, and Aro's astoundingly passionate defense of the logicality of using a "tried and true sustenance" for our experiment, one thing became increasingly clear. Aro wasn't lying, as Edward had trained me to believe all seemingly benevolent red-eyed vampires must be. Aro really meant what he had said. He didn't care a whit about any other considerations than my health and happiness.

It was bizarre how comforting that knowledge was.

But my bliss at the realization that I could now fully put my trust in the ancient to be my protector (whatever his reasons were) was quickly shattered.

A guttural snarl ripped through Rosalie's throat all of a sudden. And her silver-stiletto-bearing feet hunkered into a feral crouch.

Panic flooded my being as I heard Aro respond to this taunting by also adopting a more combative stance. And to make matters worse, he hissed threateningly. A sound that made every single hair on my body stand on end.

They were going to fight, I suddenly comprehended in terror.

And thanks to my stupid, clumsy, human frailty, there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop them. At least, nothing that wasn't completely suicidal, like leaping off the couch and diving between the two vicious immortals.

And thanks to the fact that I now was responsible for the life of another person besides myself, (one whom I loved more than the world), I felt extremely disinclined to be my usual, stupid, self-sacrificial self. Anything that hurt me could hurt the baby.

So I could only watch as the horror unfolded.

Except that it never quite did.

At the exact moment when the pair was going to pounce on the other, and Carlisle and Esme were about to try and intervene, Emmett opened the front door absolutely without ceremony. He strolled comfortably into the entryway, perfectly at ease. He obviously was not expecting anything to be wrong when he returned.

But he quickly stopped in his tracks on the pale carpet once he noticed that we were all congregated there in a tense, suddenly silent circle. With Rosalie and Aro looking ready to leap for each other's throats.

A chorus of awkward glances were exchanged as the giant bewilderedly surveyed the scene. And to my utter relief, Rosalie and Aro both straightened under the man's curious gaze and instantly set about ignoring the other in favor of staring at opposite walls.

Realizing that he must have interrupted something serious, sheepishly Emmett scratched the back of his neck and asked, "So, what'd I miss?"

…

Despite not feeling up to the task, since no one else really wanted to talk about it, for fear of starting another fight, I ended up being the one to fill Emmett in on the drama that had ensued since his departure. When I got to the part about Carlisle revealing that there had once been others, I was a little stunned to see him react to the stories about the former Cullens with a profound sadness. I hadn't expected that from the goofy giant. He didn't cry—that just wasn't part of his macho personality. But it was obvious that he mourned their loss just like the others did.

I guessed, even if the three hadn't stuck around for very long, it was a big deal that they had left. Family was family, no matter how brief, it seemed.

Once bringing Emmett up to speed was out of the way, the six of us had a short argument about whether or not Aro should stick around, since the problem affecting my health seemed to be resolved now.

Aro very clearly expressed that he wanted to remain here at least until my delivery to have a full account for his histories. And to make certain for himself that my child was born healthy, without harming me.

But despite being a very powerful and influential vampire, (one of the three co-rulers of the most powerful coven on earth), his opinion surprisingly didn't carry a lot of weight around here. I supposed that without his guard to back him, the others didn't see him as a potential threat. But that was awfully short-sighted of them in my mind.

The guard could always exact revenge.

Regardless of any danger that they might face for defying his wishes, though, Rosalie and Emmett both fearlessly expressed a strong desire to kick Aro out of the house.

Rosalie wanted him gone because he was "no longer needed" now that he'd addressed the source of my malnutrition. And of course because she hated him passionately for drinking human blood.

Emmett, on the other hand, was more worried about the wolf pack finding out that Aro was here. He seemed concerned that they might treat us like we were harboring a fugitive.

Which I hated to concede was a perfectly logical fear, given the wolves' hatred of red-eyed vampires...

But to my relief Carlisle quickly pointed out that nowhere in the treaty did it say that the Cullens couldn't associate with vampires who fed differently. Just that all vampires who found themselves within the boundaries established by the Quileute tribe were expected not to hunt humans within it.

It was a subtle nuance. But the doctor assured us that it would be enough. Battling vampires was extremely risky for the wolf pack, he reminded us. And even if they vastly outnumbered Aro, I had a sneaking suspicion that he hadn't managed to survive for thousands of years just by being charismatic. He was probably quite dangerous on his own. And if not, I highly doubted that the tribe wanted to incur the wrath of the Volturi.

Which killing their leader would certainly do.

"If Sam has an issue with us allowing Aro to stay here, I'm sure he'll realize soon enough it's in his best interests to leave it well alone," Carlisle told the group. "Taking on the newborn army whose numbers were _half_ that of the Volturi was a taxing enough ordeal. And those vampires were almost completely untrained," he reminded us.

Emmett gave a curt nod as he processed this information.

"The pack is in no condition to fight a well-coordinated and highly-gifted vampire army," Carlisle insisted.

He was right. Jacob had been severely injured during the fight in June. And from what I had heard, many others had encountered very close brushes with death. It was nothing short of a miracle that everyone had survived. I couldn't imagine that even Sam, who hated all things vampire and only grudgingly tolerated the presence of the Cullens, would be eager to dive into another dire scenario like that any time soon. He was smarter than that.

At least, I hoped so.

Thankfully I was not the only one who agreed with Carlisle. Esme wholeheartedly agreed as well. Even Emmett, who had initially raised the concern, decided that his surrogate father had a point. He concluded that as long as Aro didn't breach the treaty, everything would be alright.

Once it was decided that his departure wasn't mandatory, Aro surprised me by asking if I had any objections to him staying here. He expressed a desire to remain at least until the delivery, and possibly longer, to "observe the development of my most unique offspring".

At least, that was the reason _he_ gave for wanting to linger. Though Esme's worried glances toward her husband seemed to suggest otherwise.

Whatever his reasons for desiring to be in my company longer were, however, I thought it might be useful for him to stick around just in case we came across any complications later in my pregnancy. Certainly all seemed well for now. But if another unexpected catastrophe befell me (as it was almost certain to, given my luck) it would be wisest to have an all-things-vampire expert close on hand.

As long as Aro didn't have any other obligations he needed to attend to, of course...

Carlisle and Esme quickly agreed with this reasoning of mine.

Aro swiftly assured me that there wasn't anything else near as important as this.

And just like that it was decided that he would stay until I wished it otherwise.

Naturally, Rosalie was furious with this decision. She stormed off to her room in a huff and slammed her bedroom door so hard that it shattered into thousands of infinitesimal splinters. But although she spent the remainder of the day in her now doorless room, fuming about being overruled in this matter, I wasn't worried about her volatile attitude.

As the five of us who remained downstairs more or less resumed our usual activities, strangely, I felt optimistic. I knew Rosalie wouldn't dream of hurting my baby, or me, as long as I was attached to it. She wanted to live vicariously through me badly enough to prevent that.

And if she did try to do something stupid, like ambush him while I was sleeping, Aro was perfectly capable of protecting me from her.

So instead of fretting that night about the fact that my original protector wasn't pleased with the current arrangement, I smiled as my new protector helped me settle comfortably back onto the living room couch that had been doubling as my bed this past week. I felt completely at ease that evening as Aro devotedly tucked me in beneath an enormous assortment of warm blankets. And I was comforted by the knowledge that he was dutifully watching over me as I slumbered peacefully in the dark.

…

When I awoke, the first thing I realized was that it was totally the wrong time to be getting up. The forest landscape beyond the pristine, floor-to-ceiling windows that lined the east side of the living room was still shrouded in thick darkness. And the dim red numbers on the Cullens' DVD player, reading 3:07 AM, confirmed my suspicion that it was _way_ too early.

Valuing my rest and seeing no pressing reason for me to stay awake I was about to roll over and fall back asleep when I noticed something else unusual. Aro was no longer sitting on the opposite couch watching me slumber. And there were faint voices coming from the kitchen that sounded rather disgruntled about something.

 _That's odd,_ I thought. _I know vampires don't need to sleep... but what on earth could they be arguing about at this ungodly hour?_ I wondered.

After a minute or two of intense listening, I finally recognized the voices as belonging to Aro and Carlisle. Which explained the former's absence from my bedside.

And after a few more minutes I started to be able to make out what they were saying—their intriguing words acting like caffeine in my blood, jolting me wide awake and encouraging me to try and follow their secret conversation. Based on the time they had chosen to have this discussion, and the sensitive content, it wasn't hard to guess that they hadn't wanted me to overhear it. But that fact naturally only made me more curious.

I desperately hoped that neither of them would hear the sudden change in my heart-rate and breathing patterns that indicated that I was now awake. It simply wouldn't do for their conversation to be cut short on my account.

"Please Carlisle, I must tell her," Aro pleaded quietly, desperately, in the other room.

"Aro, she's a married woman," Carlisle protested in a clipped voice. "It wouldn't be appropriate."

"I suppose marriage does mean she is bound to him, under human law…" Aro conceded with no small measure of disappointment.

He paused in defeated silence for a moment before he continued. " _However_ ," Aro countered in a voice dripping with honey, "by _our_ laws she still remains unmated…" he emphasized in a much happier tone.

Apparently the notion of this mysterious woman being single according to vampire standards made him immensely joyous.

Carlisle, however, certainly did not share the sentiment. "Unmated?" He sounded simultaneously affronted and confused by Aro's claim, like it was not only false, but preposterous, given the circumstances. "By what stretch of the term?" he demanded in a slightly louder voice. "She and Edward have most clearly mated! The infant growing within her womb is only present because of that fact!"

The doctor's sharply whispered words jolted me. _They're talking about me,_ I realized. _Aro wants to tell me something, but Carlisle doesn't think he should because I'm married to Edward. It wouldn't be "appropriate",_ Carlisle had said.

However, Aro seemed to think that despite the fact that our marriage was consummated, that we were not bound according to vampire custom—and therefore he could divulge whatever it was that had Carlisle on the defensive.

 _But why would Aro think that?_ I wondered. Edward had told me that the word "mate" was simply the term vampires preferred to use to refer to their "spouse" because it implied something more permanent than any transient human relationship. _Had he lied to me?_

Based on what he was saying, Aro didn't sound like he agreed with that definition. And I was reasonably confident that he wasn't the type to just make crazy stuff up. But there was no way I could logically mesh his statements with what Edward had told me.

 _There has to be some explanation for this discrepancy,_ I decided. _Either I'm simply misinterpreting what I'm hearing, or one of them has to be lying._

I stifled a gulp as I pondered the latter possibility. The idea that either one of those men would act deceitfully toward me twisted my heart.

Aro was my new, and incredibly enthusiastic protector. And he was the one whom I was entrusting my life, and the life of my darling son to.

And Edward… Oh Edward… He had meant more to me than anything else in this vast, beautiful world. Being worthy of his love, of his regard, of even just his _gaze_ —that was all I could have ever dreamed of...

At least it was, once.

Until we miraculously created a new life together—the one rapidly growing inside me now. Then my whole world had been thrown upside-down and abruptly shattered into a million tiny pieces.

"Shhh… Isabella is sleeping in the other room," Aro gently reminded Carlisle in barely more than a whisper. His soft, melodic voice was full of concern that their argument might disturb my slumber.

I didn't have the heart or the guts to tell him that it already had.

Aro went on. "Besides, you know as well as I do that the mating ritual cannot be completed when one party is human…"

 _Mating ritual? What nonsense is he spouting on about?_ I thought, panicking at the mention of supernatural terms I wasn't familiar with. Perhaps I would have to rescind my judgment of Aro not being the sort to invent ludicrous falsehoods to justify his position.

Much to my horror, however, Carlisle didn't demand in bewilderment to know what Aro was raving about. He merely sighed, like he knew exactly what these unfamiliar words meant, and breathed out a solemn, "You're right," in acknowledgement of Aro's ridiculous claim.

Apparently he was already quite familiar with this "ritual".

And not only that, but he _agreed_ with Aro that Edward and I had not performed it.

This whole conversation was starting to make my head swim. _What on earth could be missing from our mating bond?_ I worried. _Is it even something I want?_ The word "ritual" made the practice sound kind of creepy and possibly sacrificial. _Do I want to go through with something like that?_ I wondered frightfully. _Will it bring me and my husband closer together? Bind us as one for eternity, or something?_ I thought hopefully.

Or _is it merely a cruel rite of passage into the vampire social world? One that no doubt involved slaughtering innocent humans—and therefore was something I wanted no part in?_

There was no way to be sure with such little information. But now that my interest had been piqued, I felt like I had to get to the bottom of this. I leaned ever so slightly forward on the couch cushions so I could hear the pair of vampires better.

"The ritual may not be formally complete now. But when the time comes they _will_ finish it," Carlisle steadfastly affirmed.

"You believe young Edward will agree to this when he returns?" Aro sounded extremely skeptical of the possibility of such a thing occurring.

 _Why wouldn't he?_ I thought quizzically.

Unless my worst fears really were true, and this ritual was of the sinister sort, I couldn't imagine that Edward wouldn't want us to be recognized as mates in the vampire world. Part of his insistence on us marrying rather than just moving in together was that it made a irrefutable public statement that I was his and he was mine and that no one else ought to interfere with that.

But if Aro's remarks were any indication of how the greater supernatural scene felt, apparently my connection to Edward was not irrefutable in the minds of vampires until we finished this "ritual". And knowing my husband, I knew that he wouldn't be fond of other vampires openly flirting with me. So of course he would _insist_ that we complete our "mating" as soon as I became immortal. Right?

Carlisle sounded equally baffled. "You don't?"

"Edward will never agree to finish his ties to Isabella because has no intention of transforming her," Aro announced coldly, like the matter was already set in stone. "That necessary step is one he shall never allow to occur."

 _Never allow to occur._ Edward would never allow me to become a vampire.

As much as it pained me to admit, and as much as I desperately wanted to believe that my missing husband intended to keep his promise to transform me—since I had agreed to go through with the horrific embarrassment of a public wedding ceremony, (and that was our bargain)—I knew that what Aro was saying was true. Edward didn't want me to be a vampire, his begrudging agreement to transform me after we were married notwithstanding.

Even after our honeymoon, he had continued his habitual routine of begging me to remain human longer.

But what really solidified the verity of Aro's remarks in my mind was the fact that even when my life was in danger (a life which he had dramatically demonstrated on multiple occasions was inextricably tied to his), and that life could be saved by making me a vampire like him, Edward could never bring himself to want that. He couldn't bring himself to mean it when he told Aro in Volterra that he would change me, even when the guard was itching to kill me. Nor could he bring himself to want me transformed after my baby was born, even though it was probably still my only shot at survival.

Even though it meant in the best-case scenario that he would long outlive me—he wanted to keep me mortal.

I had never understood why, his constant excuses notwithstanding. But I had never doubted his firmness in that position.

"He's just uneasy about the possibility of taking away her soul," Carlisle easily supplied in his son's defense.

This was the same explanation he'd given me before Edward had abandoned me the first time. But I felt it was inadequate, given my repeated willingness to give up said soul. There had to be another reason.

"I don't buy into your theories about Edward being somehow 'broken'," the doctor snapped, obviously referencing something that Aro had asserted earlier about Edward. Something which he vehemently disagreed with.

 _Broken?_ I paled at the suggestion. Especially when it came from Aro, who seemed to be the prime authority on all things supernatural. _Broken how?_


	9. Chapter 9: Revelations and Confessions

**AN: I know, it's been an eternity, guys. But I'm back. And I just thought I should let you know that in RL I'm engaged! So much has happened this last year. It's ridiculous. But without further ado, here is the ninth chapter.**

* * *

…

 _I will remember that I remain a member of society,_

 _with special obligations to all my fellow human beings,_

 _those sound of mind and body as well as the infirm._

 _(Modern Version of the Hippocratic Oath)_

 _…_

CHAPTER NINE: REVELATIONS AND CONFESSIONS

My fingers and toes felt numb all of a sudden. _Broken? Aro thought Edward was "broken"? As in, irreparably damaged somehow?_ That certainly was the impression I gathered from this conversation.

But I couldn't believe it. Prior to this earth-shattering revelation I had thought all vampires were perfect—minus the occasional personality problems, of course. So the idea that any vampire could be classified as "broken" was novel to me.

Obviously Aro couldn't be insinuating that Edward had some kind of physical malformity, because I knew for a fact he possessed nothing of the sort. (I had seen Edward completely naked, after all—and nope, no problems there). But maybe vampire flawlessness only applied to physical attributes. Maybe this "brokenness" Aro was referring to wasn't a physical condition, but an ailment of the mind.

 _Could vampires get mental illnesses?_ I wondered.

The notion didn't mesh at all with my previous paradigms about vampires. But neither did the thought of becoming pregnant by one. And well, _that_ had happened.

Not to mention that Edward's moods (especially as of late) certainly had been unhealthily volatile…

"What I have witnessed with my own two eyes is not a _theory_ , Carlisle," Aro insisted with the utmost seriousness. "I have met enough vampires who share Edward's condition during my time here on earth to know of what I speak."

 _Wait,_ I thought as I struggled to process what I was hearing, _Aro has seen this before? There are other vampires who are somehow defective?_

The idea that there was _one_ who was somehow lacking was mind-boggling enough. But an entire category of imperfect vampires? _Was there a vampire insane asylum hidden somewhere that no one had told me about?_

Before I could ponder any further on this revelation, however, Aro proceeded to list the supposedly "broken" vampires he was referring to in order to further prove his point. "Victor, the tracker who served me before Demetri, Anastasia of the Russian coven, and of course Tanya, Kate and Irina…"

My eyebrows shot up as I recognized the last three names. _Tanya, Kate and Irina? They're "broken" too?_

"Edward is nothing like them," Carlisle rebutted without hesitation and in a voice completely devoid of his usual warmth.

His sudden coldness surprised me—especially since many of the names Aro had listed off belonged to Carlisle's friends.

 _What could they possibly have wrong with them for Carlisle to be so firmly opposed to comparing them to his son?_ I wondered. I had a hard time believing that Carlisle, as a doctor, would speak so harshly of those Aro had listed if they were simply suffering from a psychiatric condition.

 _Had they all done something unspeakably heinous_? I thought instead. _Something so terrible it was insulting to suggest that it might be something Edward would ever do?_

Though I could hardly believe that was the case either. Carlisle was on reasonably good terms with the last three vampires Aro had listed.

Then again, his friendship with Aro was a fairly strong evidence of the fact that Carlisle didn't limit his associations to those who shared his morals….

Aro exhaled in slight exasperation, presumably with his friend's stubborn unwillingness to believe him. "Edward exhibits the very same symptoms," he countered logically. His words were laced with clinical disgust, as though my absent husband had contracted a horrible disease.

"Marcus noticed it in him right away. The bonds Edward forms with others are not—"

"And what proof do I have of what Marcus has seen?" Carlisle cut in before Aro could finish.

Aro paused for a moment, probably shocked that his ages-old friend had interrupted him.

Carlisle's interruption surprised me too. His words had been delivered harshly and in a deeply skeptical tone that implied that the doctor believed Aro wasn't telling the truth. That he believed Aro was citing a source that Carlisle could not verify on purpose in order to further some villainous end.

That seemed like a pretty severe indictment to me. But unfortunately not entirely out of the realm of possibility.

Several seconds of silence ensued, during which I surmised Aro was concocting an appropriate response. He took a deep breath before he continued. "It is not only Marcus who has noticed the difference. Even dear Jasper has picked up on it," Aro added to lend some credibility to his assertions.

I had to admit that was a decent strategy. The doctor was much less likely to suspect foul play from one of his own than from the outside.

But hearing the familiar name made me panic. _Jasper had picked up on_ _ **what**_ _? And if it's so serious why didn't he say anything to Carlisle? Or to_ _ **me**_ _?_ _Shouldn't_ _ **I**_ _as Edward's girlfriend, (and especially when I became his fiancée), have been the first to know?_ I thought.

I felt deeply distressed that any affect Edward's "brokenness" might have on me was never considered by the empath. _Did I matter that little to Jasper?_ I knew it was difficult for us to have a close relationship because the scent of my blood seemed to make him uncontrollably thirsty. But I didn't think he was _that_ callous….

 _And what about Carlisle? Didn't he have the right to know what was up with his own sort-of-son?_ I found it impossible to believe that Jasper would intentionally hide such information from his surrogate father. That is, if he had in fact noticed something different about Edward, and Aro wasn't just spouting nonsense.

 _Maybe this "brokenness" really isn't that big of a deal?_

Though I was kidding myself—judging by Carlisle's affronted reaction it clearly was a big deal.

 _What weren't they telling me?_ I wondered desperately as I reviewed every hint that Aro had given about Edward's state thus far. _And why was I only hearing about all of this now—eavesdropping by chance on a secret conversation in the middle of the night?_

After a few seconds of tense silence on Carlisle's part, Aro cleared his throat and continued. "Edward's inability to form proper mating bonds is _obvious_ to anyone with a gift that perceives emotions or emotional ties."

Aro's absolute confidence in these words did nothing to assuage my growing fears.

 _Edward can't form mating bonds?_ I thought frantically. _Is that why he never mentioned whatever the hell they are? Because it's something we could never have?_

The fact that that thought made altogether too much sense terrified me. I didn't want to believe it. I couldn't. Not Edward...

At last, Carlisle answered sourly. "Jasper and Edward may not have started out on the best foot. But once they got to know each other..." he trailed off, as though he'd just had an epiphany.

"Wait. How do you know what Jasper's powers have felt? You have never read his mind!"

 _Ha! Gotcha!_ I thought triumphantly as I realized Carlisle was right. Aro had no way to prove his statements at all. _Edward can't be broken!_

But the long pause that followed the doctor's declaration was anything but comforting.

Despite not being able to see the pair during this conversation, I got the distinct impression that Aro was shaking his head. "While I understand why you believe that, it simply is not true, Carlisle," the ancient vampire said at last.

The declaration nearly made me gasp. Though I managed to stifle the incriminating sound at the last second.

"I _have_ read your emotionally perceptive friend's mind," Aro revealed. I could practically hear the triumphant smirk in his voice. "He was so kind as to visit me in June to personally deliver Isabella's wedding announcement."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. _Jasper personally went to Aro?_ The notion was completely contradictory to what he and his mate had told me before they left. _I thought he and Alice wanted absolutely nothing to do with the Volturi!_ And I certainly couldn't fathom that Jasper had stopped in for a visit when he could just use the postage system to deliver that letter, like Alice said.

 _But why would Aro lie about this?_

I leaned back on the couch and chewed nervously on my lower lip as I thought through the possibilities. I nearly gnawed through the soft pink skin there with how vigorously the cogs were churning in my brain. But even as I mulled it over, I came up empty. I had no clue what the elder vampire thought he might gain from slandering Edward's name if his claim that Edward was "broken" was all a farce.

 _Didn't Aro want to add Edward to his guard to utilize his mind-reading power? And wouldn't making him out to be some kind of deficient creature detract from that goal?_

I shook my head slowly in total befuddlement.

None of this was making any sense.

"And," Aro continued in a darker tone, "I have plainly seen that Jasper's opinion of Edward has not changed. He still whole-heartedly believes what he told you at the very beginning."

"Why, he warned you _as soon as he met Edward_ that something was 'off' about your precious young telepath!" Aro argued in a clipped tone that made my skin prickle. "He _warned_ you of Edward's lack of empathy and paraphilic interest in human women! But you refused to listen!"

I wasn't sure what "paraphilic" meant, but Aro's disgusted, caustic tone combined with the rest of his words convinced me that whatever it was, it wasn't good.

Based purely on context, I surmised that it must have something to do with Edward's purported inability to form healthy relationships. That Aro was not only saying Edward wasn't capable of performing whatever mystical event constituted the "mating ritual". But that he was also claiming that my husband's attraction to me was perverted somehow.

Automatically these assertions riled up defensiveness in me. _Edward wasn't a pervert!_

But the passion in Aro's voice as he said these things, and my desperation to believe that Aro was trustworthy when so many others had failed or lied-by-omission to me over the last week, led me to at least consider what he was saying.

 _Could Aro be telling the truth?_ I pondered. _Or was he lying to further some ulterior end?_

I wasn't sure who I wanted to be wrong. Neither prospect was particularly soothing.

"I refused to listen because it isn't true!" Carlisle supplied in a defensive huff. "Edward was simply cold to Jasper when they first met because he and Alice took Edwards's room when they moved in. Jasper must have simply misinterpreted the animosity he initially felt."

Aro made a pained sound halfway between a scoff and an exhalation of disbelief. "Such contrived excuses don't suit you, Carlisle. You doubt what our gifts have confirmed?"

"I doubt that it _has_ been confirmed," Carlisle contended. A small growl punctuated his statement like he was growing irritated with this argument.

It was an unusual sound coming from the typically long-suffering doctor. His hackles had hardly ever been raised, at least as long as I had known him. But for whatever reason, it sounded like this argument was pushing all of Carlisle's buttons. And the patient man was finally at the end of his rope.

"You suppose us _both_ to be what, then? Merely jesting?" Aro sounded deeply offended. "You know I would never make light of something so serious! I am wounded that you think I would, Carlisle."

"I cannot accept you, or anyone else slandering Edward!" Carlisle hissed more venomously than I had ever heard before. "I wouldn't accept it the first time, or the second, and I certainly will not stand for it now!"

I stumbled backwards on the couch a little. Angry Carlisle was terrifying.

Thankfully, both of the men in the kitchen seemed to miss the dull "thud" that accompanied my movement.

"Though he may have little appreciation for the existence I've given him, he is a fundamentally good person," Carlisle defended passionately.

Apparently the eldest Cullen did not take kindly to having his family members insulted, no matter what evidence there was to support it.

 _Broken. Unable to properly form mating bonds. Having a "paraphilic interest" in human women._ I could see why Carlisle wouldn't want to believe any of that. I certainly lacked all desire to believe that of my husband. It all sounded so disgusting and terribly unlike the man I'd fallen in love with.

But Aro was so adamant about this….

And I couldn't think of any logical reason for him to lie, and falsely attribute Jasper and Marcus as witnesses. There simply was nothing to be gained from such an action.

 _Could it be that Carlisle was just too stubborn to see what was right in front of him?_

He had already basically admitted that Jasper's witness was legitimate, even if he ultimately disagreed with the empath's verdict. He had also mentioned that he had heard Edward being "slandered" in this manner several times before—which meant that multiple people over the course of time probably honestly believed _something_ was up.

And none of Carlisle's rebuttals thus far had been very compelling, to me, at least. They'd mostly consisted of defending Edward on the basis that he possessed too noble of a character to be lacking in way Aro was describing. And that argument just wasn't very convincing currently.

From my point of view, Edward had been acting the _opposite_ of noble ever since I became pregnant. If I was being honest with myself—which was actually quite difficult to do, because I still held onto the fading hope that I could forgive Edward and rekindle my love for him again—this last week Edward had been violent, selfish and manipulative, and not much else. The man I had fallen in love with was nowhere to be found.

It was like he was a whole different person.

And as much as I desperately wanted to believe that this "different person" Edward had become was a purely temporary state brought on by all stress that came from me being supernaturally pregnant, I had to admit this wasn't the first time I'd seen him like this. Whenever Edward felt like my life was threatened (which happened on an alarmingly frequent basis) it seemed like a switch flipped inside him. A switch that transformed him from the doting lover that gave me butterflies, into a cruel and unpredictable terror.

I went over a few examples in my mind.

When James tried to hunt me, Edward had been furious and irrational. Among other things, he'd been almost completely unwilling to listen to Alice's strategy, since it would briefly separate us.

And after Jasper lunged at me at my birthday party, Edward had been so upset that he severed all ties with me, leaving me an emotional wreck.

There was also the time when Aro asked Jane to test her power on me in Volterra. A power which was ultimately harmless in and of itself, since its effects were illusory. But regardless of the fact that no lasting damage was intended, Edward had tried to rip out their throats.

And almost every time I went to go visit the wolf pack—who I knew would never intentionally hurt me—Edward had acted much like he had in these last few days before he left.

I simply felt the difference more acutely this time because my conviction to protect my unborn son made me both the victim _and_ the threat.

 _Did Edward have split-personality disorder or something?_ I considered uneasily.

I wasn't licensed to make those kind of diagnoses so I couldn't be sure. But I decided in that moment to at least entertain the idea that Aro's was on to something—that something could be fundamentally wrong with Edward.

It felt wrong to jump to such drastic conclusions when the man in question was not here to defend himself. But what else could I do? The only situation that made a fraction of sense was that neither party was lying—that Carlisle and Aro were simply explaining their differing perspectives.

It would make a lot of sense, really. Aro _did_ possess the special vampire talent of reading every thought a person had ever had. And therefore, he had access to everything my absent husband had actually thought and felt.

And while Carlisle might be able to vouch for Edward's outward behavior, in all honesty he had no way of knowing the true contents of his surrogate son's heart. Edward could be "broken" emotionally or psychologically, or whatever and simply hiding it extremely well.

Only Aro could truly know what dark secrets my telepathic husband might have hidden in there.

But accepting that idea would mean that Edward really was as demented as Aro described—a terrifying thought.

And that Edward had somehow managed to keep his dysfunction hidden from me—another disturbing notion.

And finally, that Carlisle had either missed it as well. Or simply refused to see it out of some twisted kind of fatherly loyalty.

None of those things were exactly comforting.

And contradicting the trustworthy doctor's opinion made my stomach churn.

But if it was the truth… I would rather accept the nightmarish reality than live in continual denial.

"Edward most certainly isn't what you suggest," Carlisle boldly declared, as I knew he would.

"An incubus?" Aro baited in clarification.

My jaw unhinged in disbelief. _A_ _ **what**_ _?_

I'd heard him perfectly fine, despite the fact that Aro had spoken in a soft whisper. But I was so shocked by what he said that I patently refused to believe my ears. Aro's usage of that particular word—one which he'd said with such contempt and disgust in our phone conversation before—to describe my husband jarred me.

From the little mythological lore I'd come across in my internet search to learn about what Edward was, I'd learned that Incubi were the worst sort of sexual predators. They were demons of the night who preyed on human women—seduced them and murdered them in ghastly ways.

To use such a term to describe the man I had loved was... Well I could understand why Carlisle was so upset now.

To be "broken" was one thing.

But an _incubus?_ The accusation was almost laughably ridiculous.

…At least until I agreed to give it some serious consideration.

Maybe I didn't know Edward as well as I thought. He had lived for more than a hundred years before he met me. So there was a lot of his history that I wasn't familiar with.

Perhaps during that time there were even awful things he had done—things during his time away from Carlisle especially—that he had never told anyone.

My baby did a nervous flip-flop in my belly just thinking about it. _Could your father really be something so awful?_ I worried. I clutched my stomach in unease. _That would mean that I'd unwittingly married a monster._

As that idea was beginning to sink in, Aro decided to answer his own question. "Oh he most certainly is," the dark-haired vampire declared with an air of wicked triumph.

"EDWARD IS NOT AN INCUBUS!" Carlisle exclaimed in his best whisper-yell. It was a sound that was quiet enough not to disturb anyone upstairs, but piercing enough to send a jolt of static electricity up both of my arms.

"I know you do not wish for it to be true, Carlisle!" Aro hissed back, his soft voice alight with empathetic pain. "Your precious, golden son, being so tragically afflicted…" he trailed off, sounding devastated. Like he was trying to connect with how Carlisle would feel, if the doctor were to accept the ancient vampire's perspective.

Aro paused for dramatic effect before he continued. "I too denied the evidence for a long time, unwilling to face the truth."

The almost imperceptible sound of footsteps followed Aro's remarks as he began to pace languidly around the kitchen.

"I was unwilling to believe that someone as innocent and pure-hearted as yourself could have created something so vile..." Aro specified in a somber tone.

Carlisle scoffed like Aro was being completely ludicrous—which I now seriously doubted he was.

The beginning of another vehement protest started to wander off of the doctor's irate lips. But again he was cut off by Aro, who apparently wasn't finished.

"When I called you in March after the… _unfortunate_ incident in Volterra, and you assured me most passionately that my assessment of Edward's character was hopelessly off-base, I endeavored with all of my might to believe you, dearest Carlisle," Aro explained sincerely.

"Despite my deepest reservations," he added, "your glowing remarks even had me convinced for several months that young Edward would make a suitable husband for Isabella. Your words persuaded me that he genuinely made her happy and to take that away from her would be an unforgivable travesty."

Aro sighed heavily as though he felt like the biggest fool in the universe for ever believing something so preposterous.

"I knew that Edward could never love her as potently as she deserved…" Aro went on in a profoundly sorrowful voice. "It simply is impossible given his unfortunate condition," he explained. "But if Isabella was truly happiest in that arrangement… then who was I to interfere?"

I blinked in totally bewilderment at Aro's remarks.

 _Who was I to interfere?_ In the supernatural world, Aro was basically revered as a _king._ And yet he felt like it was not his place to mess with my comparatively insignificant love life? If he wanted something from me that necessitated separating me and Edward, I wasn't sure that there was any force on earth powerful enough to stop him.

 _Does Aro secretly suffer from an inferiority complex or something? Or is he just being melodramatic?_ I wondered.

Aro continued. "When Jasper came to personally deliver Isabella's wedding announcement, what I saw in his mind convinced me that my initial diagnosis was correct," he explained with a self-castigating sigh. A sigh that suggested he fiercely regretted having second thoughts.

"Edward was indeed an incubus," Aro announced with self-frustration for not trusting his first instinct. "And I was most displeased to learn that his unhealthy attachment to dearest Isabella had only intensified"

In that moment Carlisle seemed to have an epiphany. "So that's why you called the first time in June," he breathed softly in realization. "I thought it was strange that you already knew of Edward's plan to marry Bella when I'd barely been informed of it myself, Carlisle admitted. "But if Alice was involved…"

"Yes her gifts certainly give her and her mate an advantage," Aro softly agreed.

"And the second time?" Carlisle coldly probed.

I gathered from his uncharacteristically acidic tone of voice that neither of the phone calls in June had been pleasant experiences.

Aro made a short, surprised sound. "You never picked up, or returned my call." He swallowed heavily before adding, "I wasn't aware that you knew I tried to contact you. I thought… at least at first I presumed… that the newborn army had… _overwhelmed_ you."

It was clear from the way Aro delivered that last sentence that, for a time, Aro had believed that Carlisle hadn't picked up his phone or returned the call because the doctor was dead.

What a terrifying thing to think. _Was Aro always so quick to jump to the most horrifying conclusion he could think of?_ I wondered. Or _did he only do so in that situation because usually Carlisle would only miss a call from Aro if he_ _ **was**_ _dead?_

Carlisle heaved a heavy sigh. "I was... honestly quite furious with you at the time. I didn't want to speak with you," the doctor confessed. He sounded half-remorseful, as though perhaps giving Aro the silent treatment wasn't the most mature response, but his anger with the elder vampire had been wholly justified.

He cleared his throat before he shared his reasons. "Your previous call and the incident with Bree…"

I bristled at the mention of the short-lived newborn's name. It brought up too many bad memories. White-hot flames danced before my eyes as Jane's chilling words echoed in my ears. _The Volturi don't give second chances._

"I understand completely why you wouldn't wish to speak with me immediately after that debacle," Aro cut in, his smooth, sorrowful whisper banishing the grisly images from my mind. "I should have spoken more tactfully."

"And again, I profusely apologize for my guards' behavior," Aro supplied, his voice heavy with sincere remorse. "I know it is little consolation, but I would have you know that those responsible for that most regrettable incident have been… _appropriately punished_ for stepping out of line."

I blinked twice. _Wait… he hadn't ordered them to behave that way?_ To wait until the battle was basically over and then swoop in and "take care of" any survivors? To kill Bree and threaten me to become a vampire, or else? _That_ _ **hadn't**_ _been Aro's desire_? _He'd wanted something else to happen?_

 _But that would mean that they'd disobeyed him._

And for a reason I couldn't pinpoint precisely, that seemed deeply wrong, somehow.

 _Why would his loyal subordinates go against his wishes? Did they have a death wish?_

My heartbeat quickened in my chest. And my breathing went uncomfortably shallow all of a sudden. A horrible thought crossed my mind. _Is that what Aro meant by punishment? That he'd killed Jane, Alec, Felix and Demetri?_

The startlingly vivid images that accompanied that thought were highly unpleasant. And I didn't like to imagine my new protector that way. But I was fairly certain that death was the only type of punishment vampires doled out on each other. Prison wasn't really an option for creatures that were immortal. And as far as I understood it, vampire physiology made them virtually immune to all methods of physical torture.

Carlisle must have been thinking along the same lines, because he sputtered a bit in shock and dismay. "That… wasn't necessary."

"Ah you misunderstand…" Aro intoned softly. "By 'punish' I did not mean _eliminate_. In my many years I have developed… _alternative_ methods of discipline. Their gifts are too valuable to destroy, you see," he explained. "But that is not important."

 _So he hadn't killed them._

For some inexplicable reason I felt relieved. Even though I wasn't particularly fond of Jane and the others.

Aro took a deep breath and continued relating his experience, "…After the twins expressed sufficient remorse," he prefaced—I assumed to reassure Carlisle that his guard were still in good health. "…I called again… And again… And again…." Aro trailed off with a heavy sigh. He sounded half disappointed with Carlisle for not picking up, and half disappointed with himself for behaving like a jilted lover.

"However, since you weren't returning my calls..." he went on a bit hesitantly. "I decided that a visitation in person was in order to prevent Isabella from joining herself with Edward."

Carlisle inhaled nervously.

 _A visitation? He was planning to personally come to Forks?_ The idea would be mad if he wasn't already here. _Was this what Alice had seen? What she'd been trying to prevent all along?_

"As anxious as I was to avoid that disaster," Aro told his friend, "I originally thought it would be prudent to wait until the ceremony itself to step in. That way, I could object to their union formally…"

I stiffened in mild horror as I imagined what that might have looked like.

Aro would have glided furiously down the aisle clad in pitch black robes and a long black cape billowing menacingly behind him. He would have stopped abruptly only a few feet away from us. Then he would have pointed a deadly, accusatory finger at Edward, and stated his objection with extreme passion in front of all our guests. No doubt his guard would have been there too, flanking the exits garbed in fancy dresses and tuxedos; ready to forcibly haul Edward away from the altar if he showed any signs of resistance.

I was glad that for whatever reason that wasn't what had happened. My wedding day had been hectic enough without the Volturi crashing the ceremony. Not to mention I had no idea what I would have said to all our human guests.

 _Did Aro plan to just slaughter them all after he made his objection? Or was he planning not to say anything incriminating aloud. To make up a mundane excuse for his objection in front of everyone else?_

Carlisle must have been thinking along the same lines. "You intended to interrupt the ceremony?" he remarked, aghast. "You do realize that most of our guests were human…"

"…An oversight on my part," Aro admitted.

To me it sounded as though he had been too frantic to stop Edward and I from getting married to properly think through all of the important ramifications of him showing up at a public human function. I was shocked that our impending union could make him behave so irrationally.

"But it hardly matters. Because I learned too late that both the date and the venue posted on the card I received were inaccurate," Aro finished, sounding completely devastated by this fact.

 _Aro hadn't received the right information?_ This was news to me. _Had Alice foreseen that this would happen? Did she have Jasper misdirect Aro on purpose?_ If so, I would have to remember to thank her if I ever saw her again.

"By the time I obtained the correct information, Isabella and Edward were already married and well in midst of their honeymoon," Aro declared with the slightest of snarls. "But in the beginning I was not content to wait for them to come home. For weeks I scoured the earth for them to no avail."

I sat up straighter in my seat. _He went looking for us?_

 _Dear God he was desperate. But why? Was I really that important to him? Was I so crucial to his upcoming scheme that he would personally run frantically around the world to save me from dying at Edward's hands?_ I pondered. _Sure he had sounded completely heartbroken when he'd assumed I was dead on the phone… But I still had no clue why he cared so much._

"I had barely given up the search, and decided to await their returning flight home in Seattle, the day before you called," Aro admitted with a heavy sigh.

 _He had just missed us. If he had given up the search a week sooner, he would have ran into us at the airport._

"I cannot stand by any longer, Carlisle," Aro announced, his voice adamant and pleading. "She must know how I feel."

"As I told you before, Aro. It wouldn't be appropriate. Not whilst Bella is still attached to Edward." Carlisle negated in a surprisingly calm voice.

"Then at the very least, she must know the risks," Aro begged desperately. He pleaded like a man stranded in the vastest of deserts, begging for the meagerest drop of water when the full liter was denied him.

"It simply is not fair to permit her to live unaware of the fact that her _darling husband_ is a depraved, sadistic, conniving…"

"That is enough!" Carlisle snapped. Evidently he was quite finished with Aro's debasement of Edward's character.

"What risks?" I found myself saying aloud. I was tired of all this beating around the bush. I wanted to know—no, Aro was right, I _deserved_ to know—what I had gotten myself into.

"Was that... _Isabella_?" Aro asked his friend in an incredulous whisper.

I clapped my hands over my traitorous mouth immediately, realizing my mistake. I wasn't meant to be a part of this conversation.

But it was too late. The pair of vampires now knew that they had an eavesdropper.

An eavesdropper who was desperately trying to blend in with the heap of blankets on the couch when the two powerful figures suddenly dashed into the living room to investigate.

I had foolishly hoped that the lack of light in the room would make it impossible for Carlisle and Aro to discern that I was awake as long as I lied perfectly still. But of course they could see perfectly well in the dark. And the fact that I was holding my breath in fear was pretty obvious when you had super hearing.

The two dark shapes hovered over me for a few moments exchanging looks as though silently debating how to address this unexpected development. Then, one of them suddenly reached out and gently caressed my shoulder.

"We know that you are awake, Bella," came Aro's buttery voice as he tenderly brushed one hand across my cottony sleeve. He then gently tugged at the blankets I'd halfway buried myself under, encouraging me to drop the futile ruse.

But I didn't dare move. His words may have been feathery and angelic sounding, but I feared that if I fessed up to having trespassed unwittingly into their private discourse, a much less pleasant fate awaited me. I figured it was safer to pretend to sleep (even if unconvincingly) for now.

Aro chuckled softly at my reluctance to reveal myself. He trailed his fingers lazily down my exposed arm, drawing loose circles over my skin.

His deft hands sent a peculiar electricity through my veins, and something stirred inside me. Something that I was very familiar feeling during my encounters with Edward, but had never imagined could happen with anyone else. Especially when we were barely touching (I usually only felt like this during a passionate kiss).

I blamed it on the fact that both Aro and Edward had the same temperature of fingers. It couldn't possibly be anything more.

Unless it was just my baby, messing with my hormones again.

Yes, it had to be that.

Aro's hands slipped a little lower, reaching to caress my fingertips.

But Carlisle seemed to mistake Aro's intentions. For as soon as Aro moved to touch my hands Carlisle forcibly snatched Aro's appendages away. He restrained them behind Aro's back and hissed in hushed tones.

"And you say _my son_ is the incubus?!"

"You misunderstand..." I heard Aro protest.

A heavy rustling sound, like a long wool coat flapping reached my ears. This gave me the impression that Aro was struggling to escape Carlisle's iron grip.

"I wasn't going to..." Aro trailed off hesitantly, unwilling to say what he wasn't going to do aloud.

Carlisle's voice darkened but didn't increase in volume—I couldn't imagine why. He had to know from my irregular breathing that I was awake.

"Maybe you are so quick to accuse him because it is _you_ who are incapable of properly forming mating bonds!" the doctor spat in a livid whisper.

Aro released an affronted gasp and another round of rustling ensued.

I opened my eyes at last to watch the confrontation unfold.

"You claim that what you feel now is _love_ ," Carlisle snarled to convey the depth of his disagreement. "But what of Sulpicia? Is your bond with her broken?" he interrogated derisively. "Or was there never such a thing to begin with?"

The sudden change of topic jarred me. _Wait, Sul-who?_ I thought. _Is Carlisle saying what I think he's saying? That Aro already has a wife and that he has abandoned her to "love" someone else?_ I couldn't believe it. That didn't sound like Aro at all.

Granted, I didn't know him very well.

If I had perhaps been a little more awake, I might have connected the dots and realized why Aro's love life was relevant—that is, what it had to do with me. But in the half-groggy state that I was in, the introduction of this new character into their story absorbed all of my attention.

 _Was she a threat?_ I wondered frantically. _Would she come after him like a jealous ex to destroy this new love Aro had (whoever she was)? Would this Sul-person find us here? Would she misconstrue that Aro was the father of my child and have me eviscerated for seducing her man?_

I shuddered violently at that last thought, a fact which the two vampires hovering over me did not fail to notice.

"It appears I was right, Isabella is awake" Aro stated matter-of-factly to the vampire standing beside him. "Might I tell her _now_ , since she has no doubt already began to piece the truth together, based on our conversation?" he pleaded with a desperation that suggested he'd been waiting to reveal whatever it was to me for quite some time.

Carlisle scoffed at Aro's suggestion. "She'll never agree to it," he declared with as much certainty as he could muster.

Though the slight wavering in his voice and the worried curling of his lower lip afterwards betrayed his true insecurities. Carlisle feared there was a sliver of a chance that I would defy all his expectations and fully commit myself to whatever Aro was requesting.

I couldn't be sure of anything though, until I heard Aro out. There was no way I could make what was apparently a momentous decision—momentous enough that Carlisle had gone to absurd lengths to hide it from me—without first knowing what it was.

"I'll never agree to what?" I asked.

I yawned afterwards as a wave of tiredness settled over me again. I guess my body finally registered the fact that it was still too damn early to be awake.

Aro looked expectantly over at Carlisle. The ancient's mouth quivered in a way that suggested the words were practically bursting from his lips, but he was constrained by an earlier pact not to speak.

I too looked over at the doctor, silently begging him to lift whatever restriction he'd placed on the elder vampire for my sake.

Upon seeing the expectancy in both Aro's and my eyes, Carlisle heaved an enormous sigh. He buried his face in one palm for a moment before he reluctantly gave Aro the go ahead. "Tell her. I suppose there's no point in trying to hide it now."

Immediately Aro dropped to his knees and seized both of my hands in his in one fluid motion. The action was so swift and so graceful that I was surprised to note that his fingers were trembling ever so slightly as they imploringly held mine. Whatever it was that he was about to say—whatever secret he was about to divulge—he was extremely nervous about sharing it with me. Like his entire, three-thousand year old life hinged on it.

This, of course, automatically made me intrigued.

But not intrigued enough to completely fight off the exhaustion that was now creeping back into my body. I wasn't convinced that anything could fight that at this point.

"Carlisle believes that you would never agree to let me court you," Aro hurried to say before Carlisle could change his mind and cut him off. "I would be honored if you would at least consider my suit, dearest Bella," he continued in what was possibly his most enthralling voice yet. Though it strangely lacked his usual confidence—he actually sounded vulnerable as he made this request. Like he was offering up his very soul on a silver platter, and was rather worried that I might decide to hurl it into the nearest trash bin.

At once, Carlisle tensed. But for the moment, he kept a tight lid on his feelings by crossing his arms over his chest. He turned to me, awaiting my response.

Apparently, he decided he wasn't going to freak out until he heard my answer. Innocent till proven guilty, I guess.

But I was too tired all of sudden to think straight. And certainly not awake enough to keep up with Aro's archaic terminology. He might as well have been speaking Chinese, for all that I understood what he was saying.

 _Consider his suit?_ But he was wearing a coat…. _Court him?_ But I wasn't any good at basketball…

"Wha—?" I inelegantly responded.

Groggily I blinked a few times and rubbed my eyes, desperately trying to stay awake long enough to hear the suddenly vulnerable vampire out. But with every second that ticked by, the couch looked more and more appealing. And as time wore on, my level of interest, in whatever the black-haired vampire firmly clasping my hands was trying to tell me, plummeted.

 _Maybe he can tell me again after I've gotten some more sleep…_ I thought lethargically. _These blankets are really comfy…_

I slumped back into the cushions and prepared to close my eyes.

After a few awkward seconds of waiting for me to clarify my statement, Aro seemed to understand that what I'd meant by my response was that I hadn't understood him. He cleared his throat to get my attention.

This sound caused my eyes to fly open. And my spine went rigidly upright.

"Allow me to rephrase," Aro purred, still kneeling in front of me and clinging onto my hands. "Is there even the remotest possibility that you would accompany me on a date?" he asked with that same hopeful, but also slightly terrified voice.

 _A date?_ Suddenly I felt very awake. _That_ was a word I understood all too well.

Unless, of course, Aro was using an old definition of the word that I wasn't familiar with. Which, given his incredible age was altogether way too likely.

Did he really mean like a _date_ date? Or was he referring to something else, like a friendly outing, you known, purely in the platonic sense? Because Aro asking me on a _real_ date was unthinkable.

I couldn't believe that he was trying to pursue me romantically before when he'd kissed my hand—the notion was just too preposterous. And I was having an equally hard time believing it right now. I mean, he was probably the most powerful man in the entire world.

And yet, here he was, genuflecting before me, a completely un-noteworthy human. And quite possibly offering the entirety of his heart.

But it would be completely mortifying if I jumped to the wrong conclusions. So I decided to make an important inquiry of my own, just to be certain that had heard him correctly, and was interpreting his words right. Not to mention to make sure that I wasn't vividly hallucinating. Because I was starting to think, based on how insane these last few minutes had been, that I hadn't woken up at all. That this was all a part of wild, incredibly realistic dream.

"Aro," I started to ask.

His eyes expectantly flicked to mine the moment he heard his name.

"Do you… erm… _like_ me?" I finished hesitantly.

My heart was hammering in my chest while I waited for his answer. Because an answer in the positive would completely shake up my world.

Aro's face scrunched quizzically. He apparently failed to see the relevance of my question. "Of course, I find you to be a quite amicable person, Bella," he responded cordially. But the puzzled look never quite left his features. He didn't seem to think my question was pertinent.

Realizing that Aro had made a mistake in interpreting what I meant, I decided to spell it out for him as best as I could. "No, I don't mean, 'Do you like me?', I mean, 'Do you _like_ me?'"

I put an unhealthy amount of emphasis on the second "like" so that he would hear the obvious difference, and thus be able to deduce my meaning. I needed to know if Aro had any hint of romantic interest in me—not just whether he found me companionable or not.

But despite my best efforts to enunciate, clearly we were hitting a communication barrier. Because Aro's expression only became more confused.

Despite his obvious distaste for our conversation, Carlisle actually chuckled under his breath—probably because he perfectly understood what both of us were trying to say. And he found it hilarious that we were having such a difficult time conveying our meaning to each other. For all intents and purposes we were not speaking the same language.

Aro was actually beginning to look a little distraught, "You are the most likeable person I know, my dear Bella," he insisted passionately.

His grip on my hands suddenly tightened, though not painfully. And his face strained with matchless worry.

"Do you doubt that I find your company pleasant?" Aro said with a peculiar desperation. His eyes positively begged me to answer in the negative.

"…No, I think you've made that quite clear," I answered honestly. Weird as it was, I had absolutely no room to doubt that now. "But that's not what I'm asking."

Relief washed over Aro's complexion immediately. And his grip on my hands loosened ever so slightly as he realized that I wasn't still worried about whether or not he was genuinely interested in my welfare. Or whether he thought I was a nice person.

But this reprieve was short lived. Bewilderment quickly filled the space that worry and begging had held before.

"I am afraid I do not understand, then," Aro admitted with a heavy sigh and a helpless shrug. "What is it that you wish to know?" he asked tentatively, not entirely sure he would be fond of my answer.

Knowing that Carlisle would know exactly what to say to Aro, I immediately shifted on the couch to face him, petitioning him with my best puppy-dog eyes to help me out here.

But Carlisle seemed to think that our inability to actually get anything across to each other was working to his advantage. So he firmly shook his head and made a circular gesture that seemed to say, _Figure it out. You're on your own._

I wanted to curse at the man for being so distinctly unhelpful, but I refrained because it was Carlisle, and swearing in front of him seemed almost sacrilegious somehow. The man was a saint, in my eyes, like Mother Teresa, or something. So even if he was being infuriating at the moment, it wouldn't be right to use such choice words with him.

 _Try to think of what Elizabeth would say to Mr. Darcy_ , my brain supplied helpfully for once, recalling how much Aro sounded like a gentleman from a previous era. _Aro isn't very familiar with modern slang, so older words, like those in Pride and Prejudice are more likely to resonate with him,_ I decided. And the more I mulled the idea over, the more I thought it was the perfect solution.

At least, until the only word that came to mind from that book that described the feelings I was trying to talk about was "affections". That word just felt too strong to me. I only wanted to know if Aro was interested—if maybe there could be something more in the very distant future. Though definitely not right now because we barely knew each other.

And I was still married. Potentially to a monster, but that was beside the point.

It wouldn't be proper regardless to get serious with someone else just yet—I wasn't a total floozy.

But really I shouldn't have been worried about embarrassing myself with such a strong word. In my mind there was a 99.99% chance that I had simply completely misunderstood his earlier question. That he hadn't been asking me out at all. And that when I asked he would simply laugh and remind me of my insignificance.

If, of all the unlikely scenarios, he were to confess that he did harbor affections for me… Well, frankly I had no idea how I would react.

The shock could quite possibly be enough to make me faint. I was already getting woozy, just thinking about it.

But there was no way that would ever happen….

Seeing that Aro was getting slightly antsy as I debated how to rephrase my question in the form he would understand, I finally decided that "affections", even if I felt it was a little severe at this premature stage, would have to do. Otherwise, I might never know how Aro really felt.

"What I've been meaning to ask is…" I started to say, but paused. _Dear Lord this was so awkward_. "Do you have… um… _affections_ for me?"

Almost instantaneously, Aro lit up like a lightbulb. Evidently, these were words he understood. And based on the way his cheeks split into a humongous smile after I finished, I figured that they were words that he was delighted to hear.

Carlisle stiffened in the background. Apparently he was not happy that I'd found a way to speak Aro's language.

But in reality I paid him little to no mind. I was much too focused on holding my breath and steeling myself for the high-pitched cackle that was no doubt about to come out of Aro's mouth. He was almost guaranteed to find my question completely absurd and hilarious, and start violently rolling on the floor, laughing his head off at the idea of him being romantically interested in a human.

So I chewed on my lower lip nervously and shut my eyes tight, waiting for the worst.

But what I had anticipated was not at all what happened.

Instead of mocking me for being so stupid, Aro answered, "I most certainly do," with a voice like rich honey, and dipped his head to kiss my knuckles like he'd done before.

My skin burned in response to his lips' delicate contact for a few unbelievable seconds before Aro raised his head and added a very important qualifier.

"But I completely understand if you do not feel the same."

"I... I… " I snapped my mouth shut after a couple failed attempts to speak.

I had no idea what I was supposed to say. _Aro liked me?_

Either I was high as the Cascades on some kind of pain medication Carlisle had given me and hallucinating this entire conversation, or the king of all things supernatural had actually just confessed that he was romantically interested in me.

Honestly the former made more sense… I mean, what was there to like about boring old me? I had never understood it with Edward. And I certainly couldn't fathom someone as impressive and long-lived as Aro seeing anything remarkable in my drab, clumsy self.

And yet, here Aro was, kneeling at my feet, imploring me with wide eyes to reciprocate his crush.

 _Wait, was_ _ **this**_ _the "secret reason" for wanting my happiness that Aro had referred to earlier? The one which he'd sworn not to tell?_ I suddenly considered.

A crush could certainly explain why Aro was so frantic to see to my health and safety, and yet be interested in preserving my child as well. It could also explain why his voice grew acidic at every mention of Edward, his rival-for-my-affections'…. And if Carlisle had made Aro promise not to reveal his interest in me, (which it sounded like he had) and Esme was aware of this promise, that would explain all the odd looks the three of them been giving each other in the last twenty-four hours….

 _And_ if Carlisle really was the sort to defend his son at all costs, (which he'd just proven he was) it made sense that he had insisted on the pact because Aro's romantic pursuit of me might interfere with my relationship with Edward…

…Actually, everything was starting to come together. But the idea of Aro crushing on me at all still seemed completely ludicrous.

I stared blankly into oblivion, my entire body frozen like a computer experiencing the blue screen of death.

"Please do not feel pressured to indulge me if that is the case," Aro quickly interjected with a minutely bowed head. "I have no intention to force you into an arrangement you find unpleasant—quite the opposite."

Aro released his delicate grip on my fingers to punctuate his point.

It seemed that he interpreted my inability to speak as an expression of feeling trapped. That I was feeling obligated to go on a date with him just because of his lofty station.

Honestly I hadn't thought that far. But it was nice to know that Aro didn't plan to utilize his clout to force me at his side.

At least not overtly.

 _Was_ _ **this**_ _why he was so intent on slandering Edward?_ I suddenly thought. _Did he want to give Edward a bad name as an underhanded way of convincing me to leave my husband for him?_

It would make sense...

...if Aro was the kind of dastardly person who wanted me as a trophy and wasn't actually very concerned with my real feelings.

But none of his words thus far suggested that he was that sort of man. In fact, his admission that he was content for a few months to allow me and Edward to proceed with our relationship after Carlisle had vouched for Edward's character suggested the opposite. That Aro really was wholly intent on seeing me truly happy—whether that meant I was with someone else, or not.

And that was more than Edward had ever promised. By his own admission, Edward was "too selfish" to let me belong to anyone else.

Of course, Aro's words could all just be talk for Carlisle's sake. At this point, I had no way of knowing.

"I… I don't know how I feel," I decided to confess honestly. "This is all so… sudden." _Totally out of left-field, Aro._ "And I'm still married…" I wiggled my ring finger still bearing Edward's ginormous rock in demonstration of matrimonial loyalty.

Though I was fairly certain the dour look on my face conveyed the creeping thought I'd been having throughout this conversation. The thought that if things continued how they were between me and my husband that a divorce was probably in order eventually.

It was a horrifying thing to think—that my fairytale loves story with Edward would ever come to an end. Even if it was for a wholly legitimate reason like emotional abuse and abandonment. But it was the truth. And I'd decided I wasn't going to try and hide from that anymore.

"And there's another person I promised to give a shot if Edward didn't work out…" I blurted out, remembering what I had told Jacob to convince him to not rip Edward's throat out after he realized we were engaged.

 _And you have someone else too—if I'm understanding Carlisle's words about this Sul-person correctly,_ I thought, but didn't dare say aloud.

"And I'm really exhausted right now…" was the explanation I finished with.

Which was my chief concern at the moment really. I couldn't properly think this through and trust myself to make an intelligent decision when I was on the verge of slipping from consciousness.

"Of course. You should rest," Aro conceded, trying his best to mask his disappointment.

He assisted me in resuming a lying-down position. And once again he reverently tucked me in.

"I do not require you to make any commitments at the moment," he reiterated with a gentle smile on his face. "Especially when I have not adequately explained what precisely ails Edward," Aro added logically.

"No doubt you have gathered some idea of the fault I find in him from our conversation," he allowed. "But I shall tell you the rest—everything that I know—in the morning. Then you may take as little or as much time as you need to come to a decision as far as I am concerned."

I let out a long, heavy yawn before nodding in agreement.

I really wanted to stay awake and have Aro tell me everything now. There was so much I still wanted to ask him about. But he was right. I needed rest.

And so with a heavy heart and a mind burgeoning with questions I closed my eyes and promptly fell back asleep.

This time, there were no more interruptions in my slumber. I slept soundly until the morning, knowing that a three-thousand year old vampire was affectionately watching over me.


	10. Chapter 10: Changes

**AN: The plot thickens.**

* * *

…

 _Whatever I may happen to obtain knowledge of,_

 _if it be not proper to repeat it,_

 _I will keep sacred and secret within my own breast_

 _(Original Version of the Hippocratic Oath)_

…

CHAPTER TEN: CHANGES

Despite the lengthy interruption in my sleep the night before, I awoke the next morning feeling more rested and rejuvenated than I had felt since before my pregnancy. I wasn't ready to run a marathon, by any means. But the heavy fog of lethargy I had become accustomed to drudging through this last week seemed to have vanished overnight.

As I started to stretch I also noticed that my body no longer ached (not even the tiniest bit) from bruising. Nor did it shiver from lack of body heat when I pushed aside my blankets, letting them fall in a disordered heap on the floor. And when I looked down at myself, my limbs actually appeared completely restored to their regular size.

I felt… well… _normal_ again.

Aside from the fact that my stomach was the size of a basketball of course.

But some things just couldn't be helped.

As I sat up and blinked, I realized, to my relief, that the sun had already began its ascent into the sky—meaning it wasn't an ungodly hour anymore. It's blindingly bright rays filtered through the large windows and into the living room, stopping to rest upon two male figures sitting on the opposite couch. One in pale clothing and the other in black.

After a moment, my eyes adjusted to the light and I recognized the men as Carlisle and Aro. The sunlight wasn't directly touching them—a thick pane of glass interrupted its path—so their skin merely emitted a faint glow rather than refracting like diamonds.

Despite their close proximity to one another, Carlisle and Aro sat facing opposite directions, ignoring each other in favor of reading the materials in their respective laps. The atmosphere between them was tense—probably a leftover artifact from their argument the night before. But in large part they seemed to be trying to move on.

Carlisle was leafing through the manila folder in which he had compiled all the information regarding my health and growth over the course of this last week. And Aro had a thin, leather-bound copy of Mary Shelly's _Frankenstein_ , which he seemed completely enraptured by. His ruby eyes were so intensely fixated on the words in front of him, that I doubted anything could break his concentration.

…At least, until it registered to Aro that I was awake—something which my traitorous heartbeat informed him of immediately. Then his eyes instantly broke from the yellowing pages, and he carefully set his book down on the coffee table separating us.

Clearly his reading wasn't as important as me, for as soon as the little book left his hands, Aro slowly stood and peered into my eyes.

I held my breath as our gazes met. It was the first time he'd really looked at me since his momentous declaration last night.

And I could tell from way his slender fingers fidgeted in apprehension as he rose fluidly from the couch that he was worried I wouldn't be able to look at him the same way anymore. Especially now that I was no longer in a sleep-deprived stupor and could now fully comprehend the gravity of what he had told me.

But I was surprised to discover that I really didn't feel that much different. In fact, rather than being frightened by such a powerful being having a romantic interest in me, I felt extremely relieved. Prior to Aro's confession, his deep concern for my well-being and strange, often panicky behavior when that was threatened, had confused and terrified me. Without a logically discernible motive, at first I had feared his actions meant the worst. That Aro was buttering me up as part of some diabolical scheme.

Eventually, as he proved time and time again that my safety, health and happiness were his only goals, I had become convinced that his efforts were genuine. But it wasn't until now, after Aro had explained his feelings—his true reasons for every odd thing he'd done yesterday—that I felt fully at ease.

Of course, the idea of being the object of Aro's desire—no matter how minute that desire might now be—was certainly daunting. I mean… given the immense power he held, if he ever decided to go back on his word, and he tried to force me into a situation I found unpleasant, there wasn't anything I, or even the Cullens could do to stop him….

But ultimately I trusted the promise he'd given me last night that he would respect my decisions. Thus far he'd proved himself to be a man of his word.

And on the off chance that he _didn't_ keep that promise, underhanded recruitment plans and looming death threats were still a lot scarier than simple attraction. I had little to no practice with the former. But I'd been fighting off horny boys with reasonable success since middle school. So at least, in that case, it would be easy to anticipate his next move.

Aro's soft, musical voice interrupted my thoughts. "Did you rest well, my dear Bella?"

I nodded happily. _Best sleep in a long time,_ I thought.

"Excellent," he hummed before gliding closer.

As Aro approached, I realized that he'd changed clothes sometime while I'd been asleep. They were still black from head to toe. But he'd exchanged his knee-high leather boots for Italian dress shoes, and the trench coat that had stopped just above them for a longer one that brushed the floor as he moved. He wore the new trench coat open, revealing a smooth, tailored dress shirt, a silk cravat, and of course the signature Volturi necklace. Which seemed to glisten as Aro stopped only a foot away from me.

When Aro halted, Carlisle finally looked up from his reading to observe us. What he saw apparently disconcerted him, for a deep frown twisted his normally placid features and his eyes narrowed warily. Suddenly, the doctor snapped the paper folder in his hands angrily shut and set it down beside Aro's book on the table so that he could focus his whole attention on us.

I couldn't be exactly sure what had him so upset. But my best guess was that Carlisle feared that Aro would make some sort of romantic advance on me now that I knew the truth about his feelings.

But he shouldn't have been so concerned.

It wasn't like we were suddenly going to make out.

Confession or no confession, Aro and I still barely knew each other.

Aro, however, wasn't fazed at all by Carlisle's actions. Either he was simply ignoring Carlisle, or he was too busy staring at me and worrying over my potential response to notice the doctor's reaction.

Based on the intensity of his gaze, which never blinked or strayed from my eyes, I suspected the latter.

Once Aro stopped in front of me, his piercing eyes briefly flickered over my no-longer-emaciated, upright form. Then he politely asked after my health. "How are you feeling?"

I hesitated for a moment, considering what to say, before I answered truthfully. "…A lot better."

"You certainly appear to be in good health," Aro breathed in obvious relief and delight. "Better than last night, even." He smiled as though this observation greatly satisfied him.

Which of course it did. The man had a huge crush on me, for heaven's sake.

I blushed just thinking about it. _Aro, of all people… crushing on me._ The thought was both absurd enough and wonderful enough to make anyone giddy, I decided. It really didn't help that he was supernaturally attractive, either. Knowing what I now knew about his feelings, and having him stand this close to me—close enough to drown in his intoxicating natural aroma—was a heady experience.

I hadn't decided how I felt yet. But his interest in me and his doting behavior as of late were so flattering I just wanted to bask in it for a while. I could figure out all the technical stuff, like whether we were going to date, and what on earth I was going to do about Edward, later, I decided.

For now, I was just going to enjoy being admired, and allow my cheeks to stain themselves a brilliant red as Aro stood before me.

Aro's smile widened significantly at the sight of my flushed skin. An action which only made it burn hotter. Then his cool fingers reached up to delicately skim the edge of one of my no-longer-sunken cheeks.

Again, he seemed a little nervous as his hand approached, fearing that I wouldn't want him to touch me after last night. But when I leaned into his hands, welcoming the gesture with considerable enthusiasm, he seemed to resume his normal emboldened behavior.

I tried not to think too hard about what accepting his little caresses meant. They appeared casual enough to me… despite the definitely _uncasual_ tingles they were sending down my spine. My excuse was that I'd seen Aro touch plenty of other people (Carlisle, Edward, and Jane, just to name a few) in similar ways. And I was fairly certain that his feelings toward _them_ weren't romantic.

Carlisle was Aro's friend, and I doubted their relationship went much beyond that. Edward, I knew he despised. And based on the short interaction I had witnessed between Jane and Aro in Volterra, I surmised that he thought of her more like a daughter or a doting servant than a potential love interest.

So this couldn't be _that_ serious.

Or so I told myself.

The tiny moan that escaped my lips as his fingers trailed underneath my jaw indicated otherwise, however.

And made Carlisle's pale eyebrows shoot up in alarm.

Realizing that his touches were having more of an effect on me than he intended, Aro's thumb passed tenderly over my chin one last time before he broke away.

"Are you thirsty this morning, dearest Bella?" Aro asked casually, as though he was merely inquiring if I wanted breakfast.

I choked at his words and blinked in shock. The question had caught me entirely off guard. Really, Aro ought to develop some kind of warning system to let me know whenever he was going to speak about drinking blood as if it was perfectly mundane activity—because I certainly didn't see it that way.

Thanks to Aro's assurances yesterday, I didn't see anything _morally wrong_ with the concept anymore, as long as the blood I drank was supplied in a manner that didn't necessitate human death. But I still wasn't completely used to the idea.

After I took a few moments to process my astonishment, I began to ponder the answer to Aro's question.

Experimentally I ran my fingers over my throat, searching for that white-hot, scratchy feeling that I'd encountered the other day—the feeling of bloodthirst. But as my hands drifted over my warm skin, I discovered that my neck wasn't burning or dry in the slightest.

My stomach also felt completely sated at the moment, despite not putting anything in it since the day before. And my sleeping baby hadn't violently kicked against the walls of my womb to inform me otherwise. So I figured I didn't physically require any more blood at the moment.

Which made sense. Vampires didn't have to drink blood every single day. The Cullens only hunted once every two weeks. And even though Carlisle had deduced that my child required three times as many calories as a normal child to facilitate his rapid growth, I'd apparently made up for a lot of lost time with the five large cups of blood I'd drunk yesterday. So I felt it was safe to assume I wouldn't need any more for at least another couple of days.

Realizing that Aro was still anxiously awaiting my response, my fingers immediately dropped into my lap. I shook my head definitively. "No. I'm good."

Aro looked pleased with this development. A wide, blindingly-white grin nearly cracked his face in half. "I am glad. With how much you drank yesterday, Carlisle and I were beginning to worry that you might be insatiable!" he exclaimed with a dark chuckle.

It was obvious from the way he said it that being _insatiable_ was something of a negative characteristic. But nonetheless Aro's voice had been tender, like the idea of me gulping down just as much blood today as I had previously, (or even more), was something he would have found oddly adorable.

The notion that Aro could find me cute, even in what I saw as the grossest of circumstances, brought a smile to my lips.

"Not that I would have minded, of course," Aro purred indulgently. "I would be delighted to continue to supply you with blood," he reassured me with a gentle pat on the shoulder.

I chewed on my lower lip. "Even if I… drank as much today as I did yesterday?" I uneasily asked.

"Even if you drank _more_ ," Aro drawled. "As long as your infant required it, of course."

He added that last bit to let me know that—as much as he might be inclined to spoil me, given his affectionate feelings—he wouldn't go so far as to allow me to dine whenever I pleased, in the absence of a real need. Because even though blood had tasted _exquisite_ the last time I drank it, and my mouth watered like crazy now, just thinking about it, letting me drink when I wasn't thirsty would be wasteful. And if there was one thing I knew Aro wasn't tolerant of, it was _waste_.

And, although the instinctual half of my brain wanted to disagree, the logical half had to agree with him. It wouldn't be right to waste a resource as valuable as human blood merely to satisfy my gluttony. Some of the patients at Forks hospital would _die_ without their transfusions. And if my feeding habits obligated Carlisle to return there to siphon too much more blood away from those people, I might unwittingly cause someone to kick the bucket.

And if someone died on account of me "liking the taste" of blood so much that I drank it when I wasn't even thirsty, I wouldn't be able to live with myself.

So I swallowed the saliva pooling in my mouth and nodded again to let Aro know that I understood.

"Good. However, do not hesitate to let me know when you _do_ require blood again," the vampire standing in front of me urged. "Unlike your _friend_ Rosalie, I have no qualms with providing as much as you need," he said to let me know that if I genuinely _needed_ it, he would have no problem feeding me absurd amounts of the substance.

My vision swam with red as I struggled to imagine just how far Aro would be willing to go to ensure my health. At once I felt very grateful that I wasn't thirsty at the moment, because in reality I desperately didn't want to deplete Carlisle's supply and force Aro to deliver on the unspoken threat/promise he'd given yesterday. The promise that he would not hesitate to slaughter humans on my behalf, if that's what it took.

A promise that had a lot more credibility now that I knew of Aro's passionate feelings towards me.

I shuddered just thinking about it. In all the excitement I had forgotten that there was a dark side to being Aro's crush. That he prized my life far above that of most humans—who he had about as much regard for as I did for eggplants. And that he would kill them indiscriminately, and without a moments' hesitation, if he thought that action would benefit me somehow.

 _I'm definitely going to have to talk to him about that,_ I thought. _Tell him that killing people on my behalf is off-limits._

My heart sank as I struggled to find to the right words to tell him this. I didn't want to emotionally wound him any more than necessary. But I never did quite find them, for my unpleasant thoughts were interrupted by Aro's next question.

"If you are not thirsty… are you… _hungry,_ then?" Aro prodded uncertainly. "Carlisle wondered if perhaps… since you are _technically_ still human that you might crave human food this morning, now that your infant's needs have been fully addressed," he said in a dubious tone, as though the concept was foreign to him.

I supposed it was, given that he hadn't really eaten anything solid for thousands of years.

But as I searched within myself again, I couldn't find any semblance of _that_ sensation in my body either. I wasn't even sure I was capable of it anymore. The insides of my body felt so different now that Edward's child had taken up residence in there. And the idea of eating any food, even my favorites—chocolate and ice cream—sounded about as exciting as the idea of eating dirt.

 _Chewing_ especially, seemed like a revolting concept all of a sudden. The image my mind had conjured up of me mashing up mushy bits of brown candy between my teeth made me want to gag.

I shook my head again to answer Aro's question. "I'm not hungry."

I paused before I added the most monumental piece of information. "Actually, I don't think I ever will be again. Food just sounds…" I stuck my tongue out for effect, "… _gross._ "

"… _Interesting_ …" Aro observed with great surprise, but also extreme glee. "Then I was correct," he added with a victorious grin before he held a hand out and twisted his head to look expectantly at Carlisle.

I wasn't sure what Aro was waiting for.

At least, until Carlisle sighed exasperatedly before he fished a couple of hundred dollar bills out of his pockets and promptly placed the cash in Aro's extended palm.

My eyes widened to the size of saucers as I witnessed the exchange. I knew the money was meaningless to them—both of the men were so rich that a couple hundred dollars meant nothing. But it was the sentiment of the exchange that startled me.

 _They'd made a bet about what I would eat?_ I thought, offended by the prospect. _Just because my life was no longer in immediate danger did not mean my health was something they could joke about like this!_ I wanted to scream.

But when I saw Aro pumping a single, triumphant fist after he'd stashed the money in his pocket, and I saw Carlisle chuckling softly at his friend's celebratory antics, in spite of the fact that he had lost, immediately my anger vanished. To see the two men acting like friends again, despite their passionate argument last night, and Carlisle's clear reservations this morning, was extremely comforting. And I didn't want to ruin that.

For a few seconds, I happily watched Aro make a serious of hilarious "I told you so" faces directed at the gently chortling blond. Each new expression was more contorted and uproarious than the last, though Carlisle made a valiant effort to contain his laughter.

The doctor looked like he wanted to go back to being upset with Aro—probably about his affections for me. But the ancient's funny faces were making that very hard. Aro leaned progressively closer to his friend as he made each one, trying his hardest to break the reserved vampire's shell. Until his face was only a few inches from Carlisle's nose.

I was surprised to see Carlisle sputter what was _almost_ a giggle at Aro's intentionally uncomfortable proximity, before he playfully shoved Aro out of his personal space.

At first my heart leapt into my throat at the sight, worried that the doctor's physical rejection of the powerful vampire would trigger a fight. I highly doubted it was a part of acceptable vampire etiquette to physically push away your rightful king. Even if it was a comparatively soft push done in jest.

But I was instantly comforted when I saw that Aro had recoiled without any ire, and both men had dissolved into hearty laughter.

Apparently, Aro's position as leader of the Volturi didn't hold them back. They really were like old friends.

As the two men relaxed back into their seats and their laughter slowly died off, I thought of something else, though. _When had this happened?_

I knew that they must have made this bet sometime last night, since they couldn't possibly have done so any sooner, given the wager's premise. But, at once, I was curious as to whether it had preceded or followed the argument I'd overheard. It was hard to imagine that something as light-hearted as a wager could have come after such a heated debate.

However, with how rapidly Aro cycled through emotions, I doubted anything was impossible for him.

 _But if Aro and Carlisle were capable of making a friendly bet after their argument, was there anything else important they'd discussed while I was out?_ was my next logical thought. Neither of the men said anything more to suggest that there had been.

But then again, they didn't say anything at all.

After the two men had stopped guffawing, a long, awkward silence ensued, during which all of us looked totally lost for words.

With the "pleasantries" out of the way, there wasn't much to talk about, actually. Now that I was in good health, we didn't have the topic of my malignant pregnancy as an easy conversational crutch.

And with Carlisle sitting in the very room with us it was impossible—or at least, terribly inadvisable—for Aro and I have an open discussion about what we were going to do about this whole romance thing. Or any of the other many unanswered questions I had flitting around inside my head about what I'd heard last night, for that matter.

So for a few moments, the three of us just stared at each other, waiting for one of the other two to speak up.

After a little while, Aro started to look uncomfortable with the marked difference in the level of our heads—he was standing and I was sitting. So he decided it was appropriate to swivel into a seated position beside me on my couch. Though, as he adjusted the long coattails of his trench coat into a comfortable arrangement, he still remained silent.

Once he'd settled, Aro's beautiful brows furrowed in deep thought. After a few minutes of consideration, he looked in my direction and parted his lips to speak.

At the very last second, however, his eyes flickered over to the doctor sitting on opposite couch, and his lips snapped closed again, like he'd been intending to say something Carlisle wouldn't find satisfactory. Aro did this several times, his mouth gaping and shutting repeatedly, before he apparently gave up, and gestured for Carlisle to push _Frankenstein_ across the coffee table into a place he could reach.

It appeared that Aro had reached the same conclusion that I had—that any conversations that were of actual import would have to be held later, away from the nosy Cullen patriarch. Based on the passionate objections Carlisle had made towards the idea of Aro courting me last night. And based how Carlisle had misconstrued Aro's innocent reaching for my hand to be some kind of underhanded sexual advance. I got the impression that Carlisle might see any conversations between us as unsafe, no matter how mild their contents.

So it was smart for Aro to be cautious in his presence.

Especially now that they seemed to be getting along.

I got the sense that, despite their earlier laughter, whatever truce the two men had come to last night after I'd fallen asleep could be easily shattered. One wrong word, and they'd be back to shouting and snarling at each other.

After looking between Aro and I and determining that really we weren't going to say anything, Carlisle followed Aro's silent request and gently nudged the little leather book toward the ancient vampire. As Aro picked it up and started reading again, Carlisle gave Aro one last warning glance, just in case the ancient changed his mind as far as I was concerned, before he seemed to realize it was unnecessary and he visibly relaxed.

I surmised that Carlisle was pleased that Aro wasn't going to behave drastically differently now that I knew how he felt. That Aro was still going to be the flawlessly polite, respectable gentleman he'd been to me the day before. And that despite his interest, he wasn't going to suddenly touch me or speak to me in terribly inappropriate ways.

Of course, I'd already gathered as much. Whatever Carlisle might think, Aro wasn't a pervert.

But it was nice to watch Carlisle at least tentatively accept that fact all the same.

Once he'd let go of his worries, Carlisle retrieved the manila folder resting on the coffee table in front of him and resumed studiously flipping through it s contents. I felt an odd sense of déjà vu as the two men read in silence, just as they had been doing before they realized I had awoken.

Though this time, because Carlisle now was reasonably assured that I wasn't in any danger from Aro, physically or emotionally, they seemed a little more companionable now. More at ease.

…

Carlisle and Aro continued reading in silence while I sat awkwardly amidst them, for what felt like a very long time. I couldn't be exactly sure how long, since I hadn't been timing them or anything. But after a while of enduring this uncomfortable lull in conversation, I couldn't take it anymore. I had to break the silence with something.

And as I'd mentioned before, my head was simply bursting with questions stemming from what I'd overheard last night. In the beginning it had been hard to settle on what order I should present them in.

 _Should I ask the big questions first? The overarching ones that would fill in the biggest holes in my knowledge?_ I wondered. _Or should I ask the more specific ones first? The ones that would have the biggest personal impact?_

It had been nearly impossible to decide.

But once I'd finally selected the question I wanted to ask Aro first—the one I would use to end the unbearable quiet—I faced another dilemma. That is, I wasn't terribly keen on asking that particular question whilst the blonde doctor was still in the room. I didn't want a repeat performance of his fury, after all.

As I grumpily mulled over possible scenarios that I could utilize to get him to leave, Carlisle stopped his idle thumbing and rested on a particular page in the folder in front of him. He then drew out a pen from one of his pants pockets to write something down—an addendum to his notes, I supposed.

I couldn't make out the words from where I sat, but the fact that they were no-doubt medically related finally made me think of the perfect excuse. An excuse that would get Carlisle out of the house, and give Aro the opportunity to answer my questions without the doctor policing our every word.

The sound of Carlisle's ballpoint pen tip scratching the surface of the paper seemed obnoxiously loud, given how quiet the room was. A fact which only increased my desire to break this palpably awkward silence. But just as my mouth opened to tell Carlisle I wanted him to return to work at the hospital today—the excuse I'd decided on—the doctor abruptly looked up from his notes and asked a question of his own.

"Bella, aside from your dietary switch, have you noticed any other… changes, since you started carrying?" He tapped his pen anxiously against his lips, as though the idea was a little disturbing. "Anything else… less human?" he hesitantly prodded.

 _Less human? As in… more vampire?_

The question took me aback. "I, uh…" I started, gnawing on my lips in deep thought. _Not that I know of._

Experimentally, I twisted my arms around in front of my curious brown eyes, searching for any signs that my delicate, flushed human flesh had been replaced by rock-solid, porcelain perfection. But I wasn't surprised to find that nothing had changed. I still _looked_ human.

And I still _felt_ human, bloodthirst aside.

That is, I still had to breathe, and my heart was still pumping in my chest.

So I was about to shake my head "no", when suddenly I remembered something. "…Wait, I have been healing pretty fast," I told him, not sure if that counted.

Evidently it did. For Carlisle's pen rapidly scratched across the papers in front of him as soon as I shared this—more notes, I guessed. Then his eyes instantly honed in on me, silently begging for me to elaborate.

The sudden intensity of his stare startled me a bit. Carlisle was looking at me like his life depended on it, all of a sudden. And I wasn't comfortable with the idea that this pregnancy was slowly making more like a vampire—the idea that Carlisle seemed to be taking away from my statement. But I wasn't about to renege on what I'd said now. It was the truth.

Figuring that a visual demonstration would be more effective, I quickly rolled up the hem of my over-sized shirt to show Carlisle my now completely bruise-less belly. Slowly I rubbed a hand over the smooth, flawlessly pale surface to draw attention to how different it was than before.

As my healthy fingers drifted over the skin there, I did notice that my stomach felt a little chillier than the rest of my body. But I thought nothing of it. It was probably just cold because it was exposed.

Carlisle's eyebrows slowly encroached on his forehead as he took in the sight. "The bruises are completely gone?"

"Not a trace," I said with a weak shrug. "They were already yellowing yesterday, after I… er… drank blood. But now my skin isn't even sensitive anymore." I poked the outside of my belly with my index finger in a few places to demonstrate.

I didn't jab very hard, because I didn't want to break my finger by smashing it against the hard membrane encasing my son. And because for some odd reason the skin there felt minutely less yielding than before.

Carlisle's eyes opened even wider as he watched me prod my stomach. I wasn't sure whether it was fear or awe that prompted his eyelids to sink back into his head until they almost didn't exist. Or some terrifying combination of both.

But whatever it was that Carlisle was feeling, apparently he thought what was happening to me was novel. For after only a few seconds of staring off into space in shock, he wrote down an incredibly long paragraph in only a second, before he swiftly pocketed his pen, and clapped his paper folder shut. Then, in a flash, he tucked the folder under one arm, grabbed the long white coat that had been resting over the back of his couch, and abruptly rose to his feet.

Once he was standing, Carlisle's eyes flickered anxiously towards the door behind him—the one leading into the garage. A fact which Aro did not fail to notice.

Aro's ruby eyes lifted up from his book for the first time since our conversation had started. "And where might you be going, dearest Carlisle?"

Aro set the little volume in his slender fingers aside, deciding at last that whatever was happening in this room right now was more important.

Before I could say anything, the doctor threw on his coat, and looked pointedly at me as he adjusted the lapels. "Bella, I need to go back to the hospital," Carlisle insisted in a voice that left almost no room for argument.

 _What? Right now?_ I panicked. _Was what he'd seen really that bad?_ I worried.

I peered down at the bared swath of ballooning skin underneath my fingers with a look of trepidation, fearing what I might find. But other than being unusually rotund, my stomach looked normal. I certainly couldn't find anything that was worthy of eliciting this much alarm from the eldest Cullen. Maybe it was a little weird that I couldn't find the little birthmark I'd always had near my belly button…

"Just for a few hours," Carlisle stipulated upon seeing my apprehensive expression. "There's some equipment there that..." he trailed off, not sure how to put this. "…It will help," he finished weakly, with a guarded look in his eyes.

I got the sense he wasn't telling me everything. That he _knew_ something was up, and yet was unwilling to share whatever that was with me. Which only made me panic more.

 _What was Carlisle seeing that I was missing?_ I thought frantically. _There's nothing there!_ At least nothing that I could see from my awkward vantage point, looking down at myself without the assistance of a mirror.

Aro too appeared disconcerted that the doctor wasn't sharing. His sculpted eyebrows furrowed with concern. And, probably on instinct, a single pale hand of his shot forward, trying to make some form of physical contact with the doctor, so that he could read his mind.

From where I was sitting, it looked like Aro was aiming for Carlisle's hand—the one that was reaching across the coffee table to snatch up a pair of car keys resting there which I hadn't noticed before.

But unlike the last time, when he'd accepted the caress of the elder vampire with obvious enthusiasm, this time Carlisle dodged. He snatched the keys up and his hand away from Aro's mentally-probing skin in one aggressive motion. He then gave Aro a stern, silent "no" with one piercing gaze.

A gaze that gave me goosebumps. I'd never seen Carlisle look so serious about anything in my life.

Aro recoiled automatically, choosing to respect his friend's desire to keep private whatever he had discovered. Though the tri-millenial vampire's distress, rather than disappearing, as it seemed Carlisle wished it would, only deepened.

Aro swiveled in his seat on the couch to wordlessly share his wariness with me. And the hand that had been rejected slowly returned to the other, before they curled uneasily around one another in a disconcerted embrace in Aro's lap.

After it became obvious that Aro wasn't planning on making any more attempts to invade his mind, Carlisle suddenly flitted out of the room. He dashed into his in-house medical lab, returning momentarily with a mysterious transparent case full of sealed petri dishes. Then he bent down to retrieve a briefcase from beneath the couch—his work bag, I supposed—before he immediately moved to leave.

I was surprised that he was going to depart so fast, without any additional preparation. Like a call to the hospital to give them an excuse for why he'd been gone for so long.

 _Whatever it is that he's seen, apparently it can't wait._

Aro looked surprised by Carlisle's immediacy too. Though he remained in his seat. As Carlisle started quickly to make his way to his car, briefcase, petri dishes, and keys in hand, Aro didn't move a muscle. Rather than trying to prevent Carlisle from going anywhere, he chose to gaze perplexedly at my belly, now that he was facing it. Trying to discern its secrets for himself.

I decided to follow in suit. I'd almost suggested that Carlisle do exactly what he was doing now, a few minutes ago, anyway. So there wasn't really any reason for me to try and persuade him to stay.

Carlisle paused in the doorway leading to the garage. His eyes briefly flickered over his shoulder toward Aro. "And of course I'll see if I can't obtain more blood," he added. Though it was obvious from his behavior that obtaining blood was a tertiary motive for going back to work, at best.

"Uh, yeah. That'd be great," I choked out, still in shock that Carlisle was leaving us.

Carlisle nodded before he lifted an extended index finger to the level of his eyes, and jabbed it with vehemence at the black-haired man sitting beside me. "Behave yourself while I'm gone, Aro," he commanded. The fierce expression on his face, and the way his butterscotch eyes glanced at mine for a second as he said this, suggested that he wouldn't tolerate the ancient getting up to anything naughty with me.

Aro's eyes tore themselves away from my swollen belly for a moment to meet Carlisle's. "Oh, but of course," he pleasantly agreed. Though the cheeky, conspiring smirk that warped his thin lips was anything but comforting to the doctor.

Carlisle's right foot hovered over the threshold leading into the garage. But it was clear he wasn't going to move until he obtained a more satisfactory answer.

"Aro…" Carlisle pleaded with him, begging his friend to be serious about this. Probably so that he could have some semblance of a peace of mind while he was off using whatever hospital equipment he thought would "help".

After a moment, Aro placed one hand flat against his chest in a sort of cross-my-heart type of gesture and slightly bowed his head. "You have my word," he smoothly promised. "I will not do anything Isabella does not explicitly ask for."

Carlisle made a pained expression, like that wasn't exactly what he was looking for. That he wanted more than just an assurance that Aro wouldn't act without my consent. But he must have decided that had to be enough. For as soon as Aro gave him that assurance, Carlisle disappeared into the garage.

And not long after, we heard the ferocious roar of his Aston Martin's engine.

…

"So… what happened back there?" I asked Aro after we'd both sat in stunned silence for a few minutes, not sure how to react to Carlisle's unexpected departure. It had all happened so fast. There was a part of me that still wasn't convinced, in spite of the glaring evidence, it had been real.

Aro regarded my still exposed stomach with a curious expression before he answered truthfully. "I am not sure. Carlisle refused to let me see his thoughts, so anything I might say would only be conjecture at this point," he revealed with a defeated shrug.

"Why didn't you just…" I made a limp gesture with my hands, "…touch him anyway?"

 _Even if Carlisle had tried to run away, it's not like he could have evaded Aro forever,_ I thought.

Aro's lips formed a wan smile before he explained. "Though my gift makes it _difficult,_ I endeavor to have a basic respect for the privacy of those I care about," he said as though that was simply good etiquette between friends.

My eyebrows lifted significantly. This revelation surprised me.

Apparently, Aro respected and trusted Carlisle enough to let the blond be the judge of _when_ his mental information was shared. Obviously Carlisle couldn't hide anything from Aro indefinitely, that was sort of the point of Aro's power. But the notion that Aro was willing to allow the doctor to keep even a temporary secret was baffling to me.

I wasn't aware those two were so close. Though with all of the indicators of that fact that I'd seen these last couple of days, I shouldn't have been so shocked.

"And perhaps…" Aro went on, rubbing his sculpted chin between his thumb and forefinger in deep thought. "…Perhaps Carlisle doesn't want to share his thoughts until he is certain. If his fears turn out to be completely unfounded, there is no use in frightening us."

I nodded. That rationale made sense. There was no use in freaking us out with horrifying theories if they turned out not to be true.

But I still didn't like not knowing. If they _were_ true, every moment we spent in the dark could be deadly. At least, that was the lesson I'd learned from this pregnancy.

Knowing was half—no, _seventy-five_ percent—of the battle.

"What do you think he's worried about, though?" I asked, desperate to at least have some estimation of the danger I was in. "I guess, what's your conjecture?" I allowed, since it seemed Aro didn't like to share information he wasn't one-hundred-percent sure about.

Aro sighed. "Unfortunately I missed the visual portion of that conversation." The resignation in his body language told me that Aro felt it wouldn't be right to jump to conclusions without at least having seen how the doctor had reacted. "When did Carlisle start appearing distressed?" he asked me.

"Um…" I probed my scattered brain for the answer. "After I poked my stomach," I remembered suddenly.

"Then, might I see what you showed him?"

It was an odd request. One that, in any other circumstances, I would be unwilling to fulfill. But since I saw no other option if I wanted to know what the hell was going on here, I obediently poked my stomach again.

I did it a couple of times for good measure, in different places and with different time intervals in between each one. And with each tiny little jab, I watched Aro's eyes widen and light up with comprehension.

After a few seconds I stopped. "What? _What are you seeing?!_ " I demanded hysterically.

I was dying to know. But at first Aro said nothing. His eyes were firmly trained on my stomach, watching _something_ with rapt interest. He didn't appear to want anything to break his concentration, not even me.

Then suddenly, without warning, he looked me directly in the eye and gave me another odd command. "Poke your arm."

"What?" I blinked quizzically. _That doesn't make any sense._

"Just indulge me, Bella," he pleaded.

With a hearty sigh I set my left arm in my lap and poked the inside of it, above the elbow. I wasn't sure what he was looking for so, like before, I prodded the flesh there repeatedly, with a few breaks in between. In the shadow of the couch, I certainly wasn't seeing anything unusual...

"And the other?"

I rolled my eyes at Aro's suggestion. But obligingly, I poked the other arm in the same place.

"Hmm. _Fascinating_ ," Aro murmured with glittering eyes as he peered down at the two arms resting in my lap. "It appears to be localized."

 _Localized?_

"What is localized?" I demanded in a frazzled voice.

 _Was there something inside my stomach that wasn't in my arms? Something that Aro could only see when I prodded it? Something shouldn't be there?_ I considered, terrified by the idea.

But again, the immortal in front of me didn't say anything. He just kept staring at my forearms, particularly the right one—the one that bore my half-moon-shaped scar from my unfortunate encounter with James—as though it contained a marvelous treasure.

"Aro!" I shouted to get his attention. I was rapidly going mad over here. _He couldn't ignore me after saying something like that! He needed to specify!_

At once, Aro jolted out of his mesmerized stupor and appeared ready to answer my question. But like I had with Carlisle before, Aro seemed to think a demonstration would be a more effective way to communicate than words. So tenderly, he took hold of my right wrist, just above the scar, and slowly raised my whole arm up above my head.

At first I was confused as to what he was doing. Until my arm passed out of the shadow cast by the couch and into the sunlight filtering into the room from the window behind us. Then, in the yellow light, I could finally see what the other two men had been getting at.

The raised area of skin around my scar was glowing faintly in the light. Just like Aro's skin. The rest of my arm, aside from a small, silvery trail extending down from the scar towards my elbow, remained unilluminated, as it should have been. But the small area that was glowing scared me. My skin wasn't supposed to do that…

The vampire sitting next to me fixed his ruby eyes on the glowing part too. Though he looked more enraptured than disturbed.

"I was right. James' venom _is_ effecting you," Aro remarked with great amazement, and a growing smile.

As he held my hand aloft and investigated the silvery halo surrounding my scar, Aro looked quite pleased with this development.

However, I did not share his enthusiasm.

"But Edward sucked it all out!" I desperately protested. _This is all wrong. This isn't supposed to be happening._

"Evidently not all of it," Aro countered. "He must have left the smallest trace. An amount so little that it was undetectable."

 _Was that possible?_ I feared. _Could Edward have missed some of James' venom when he'd tried to get it out of my bloodstream?_

I guessed that sucking vampire venom out of a human was an experimental and imprecise procedure, but still. I'd been so sure this last year that I was just as human as before. I'd certainly received my fair share of blood-spilling injuries to prove it. Hell, I'd even put on another inch in that time—something vampirism definitely prevented from happening.

Aro slowly pulled my arm back down into the shadows and settled it in his lap so that he could examine my scar more closely. "One drop is all it takes…." he revealed ominously.

 _And a beating heart,_ I silently added in my head, recalling Edward's warnings about how there were some conditions that not even venom could cure. But I definitely had one of those. It was hammering like a hummingbird in my chest.

After a few seconds of peering down adoringly at my evidently venom-infected wrist, Aro's cool fingers began tracing over the shape of James' teeth on my skin.

My breath hitched as Aro delicately fingered my scar. In that one area, his skin was the same temperature as mine.

The rest of me was still hotter than him—which made Aro's comment about localization suddenly comprehensible. And immediately I thought it was extremely strange that I didn't feel any pain, because, if Aro was right that James' venom was effecting my body, I should be feeling a fierce burning sensation right now. And at the moment, I didn't feel any pain at all.

But as Aro brushed his bizarrely warm fingers over my skin, I couldn't deny the over-arching evidence any longer.

Even if it was only in segments, I was turning into a vampire.

I sputtered in shock. "But… why _now_?"

 _If some of James' venom has been in there this whole time, why didn't this happen sooner?_ I could think of a million instances in the last nine months since I was bitten where venom would have come in handy—when I went to save Edward from the Volturi, and during the battle with the newborns, just to name a few. But now was not one of them. I was trying to carry a baby, for heaven's sake!

"I would assume that the presence of your child triggered the change," Aro commented, still sending shivers down my spine as he continued idly tracing my scar. "No doubt some of the chemicals in your amniotic sac are similar to venom," he contributed as his scientific hypothesis. "For I am seeing a similar effect around your womb." He finally let go of my wrist to gesture toward it.

I gasped as Aro's analysis reached my ears. " _What?_ "

 _There can't be venom near him! He'll get stuck in there!_ I panicked, remembering Aro's warning about becoming "perpetually pregnant."

The image of a small, green-eyed, russet-haired, miniature Edward, entered unbidden into my mind. But this time he was utterly frozen as lied he naked and suspended in a womb thick with venom. He couldn't move at all—not even to blink, or to breathe. It was almost like he was just a porcelain figurine. And his beady little eyes stared up at me in horror, like he was trapped in a moment of incredible pain.

 _No! Not my little boy!_ I inwardly screamed.

But just as these horrid thoughts crossed my mind, my baby gave me a little kick. Not a really painful one, just a little "bop" to let me know he was alive in there. I heaved an enormous sigh of relief—my baby was still mobile, at the very least. But that didn't negate the relevance of my earlier question.

"Take a look for yourself," Aro prompted, flicking a hand in the direction of my stomach.

I gulped and slowly looked toward my bared belly with dread, expecting the worst.

But in the shadows I couldn't see anything. Nothing out of the ordinary, anyway. Whatever it was that Aro and Carlisle could see in the shadows with their extraordinary vampire-vision, was invisible to me. Even when I prodded my skin.

So with only a second's hesitation, I stood up and walked around the couch toward the east-facing windows to get a better look in the light.

As soon as I rose from the beige cushions, Aro flitted upstairs. Momentarily I freaked out, fearing that he was abandoning me, now that my pregnancy had officially gotten too weird. But before I could make any sound of distress, he returned in a flash with a full-length mirror, borrowed from one of the Cullens' bedrooms.

Aro set the long mirror upright in front of me so that I could get a better look at what I was seeing. And sure enough, as I padded into the sunlight coming in from the window, and gazed into the mirror's reflective surface, I saw the same glowing effect happening in a little circle in the middle of my stomach.

Like the phenomena I'd witnessed on my wrist, the glowing mark on my stomach had a thin trail of illuminated skin leading away from it. Actually, in this case, several trails, fanning out around it like a mini sun with rays. Each trail tapered off at the edge, but the observation about the little tendrils of light that frightened me the most was that they seemed to be following the pattern of my veins.

Nervously I traced the little glowing lines extending from the center. "Do you think it will spread?" I asked the vampire hovering beside the mirror.

Aro stepped closer and intently scrutinized my appearance before he swallowed uneasily. "It is likely." _That is what venom does, after all,_ seemed to be his unspoken justification.

Fearfully I clutched my tummy. "Will he be okay?" I asked, referring to my son.

That was all that mattered. I could be turning into a freaking _velociraptor_ and be fine with that development, as long as I knew my baby would be alright. But if the venom leaking into my body was going to hurt my little boy in any way... Well I might have to ask Aro to attempt a second installment of sucking it out. Because at least I knew that would buy us some more time.

Aro averted his gaze from the odd, glowing shape on my belly and instead looked me dead in the eye. "I cannot say for certain," came his honest admission. "Though I will do everything in my power to protect your child," he vowed, clenching a determined fist in the air.

Normally, Aro's passionate declaration would have given me great comfort. To know that there was at least one person who cared deeply enough about my happiness to want to protect my son at all costs was and incredible boon.

But all I could do right now was stare at the little silvery shape on my pregnant belly in horror. And wish with all my might that it would recede before my eyes, shrinking back to wherever it came from, rather than spread, as it was almost guaranteed to, throughout the rest of my body to imprison my infant in a horrible, liquid cage.

Realizing that what I was seeing in the mirror was causing me considerable distress, Aro twisted it to face the other direction, so the imagery there would no longer bother me. I'd already seen all there was to see, anyway.

Now that the wooden back of the mirror faced me, it was pointless to keep the hem of my shirt rolled up. So I pulled it back down to cover my chilly stomach.

"Carlisle is probably already working on a solution," Aro gave as his last piece of reassurance.

Numbly, I nodded. Aro was probably right. That was the most likely reason for Carlisle to rush off to the hospital. But in the face of such a devastating revelation, it was hardly any solace. I needed something more immediate. Something more tangible.

"Hold me," I commanded the vampire in front of me.

I wasn't sure why I said it. I just desperately needed _someone_ to cling to in light of this catastrophe. I was convinced it was the only way I was going to stay sane. And currently, Aro was the only body available.

Aro blinked in shock for half-a second—probably stunned that I wanted _his_ comfort, of all things—before he composed himself. "Of course," he acknowledged politely, before he complied with my wishes.

Reverently, like I was a priceless, holy relic, or something, Aro enveloped me in his arms, and tucked my head carefully beneath his chin. At first, he gripped me like I was made of glass, like I would shatter under his fingers if he wasn't absurdly gentle.

But when I dug my fingers deep into his back, to signal that I wanted him to hold me tighter, he graciously obliged, squeezing me a little. Though I was impressed that he immediately was able to figure out how hard to squeeze, (that is, hard enough, but without leaving any bruises)—a feat that Edward still hadn't completely figured out.

An almost imperceptible hum of approval escaped Aro as we settled into a comfortable position in front of the window, like this was where he preferred to have me. Like in his arms was where he wanted me to stay forever.

My cheeks burned as I realized I was being unfair. Even in this moment of crisis, it wasn't right to ask the man who had an enormous crush on me to be this close when I wasn't sure I wanted anything more serious with him. At this point, I was basically leading him on.

But I didn't worry about that for long. Something a little more pressing occurred to me as I clung to Aro for dear life. "Does this make me a vampire now?" I nervously asked, peering up at him.

Aro laughed, a sound like a choir of angels doing acrobatic vocal exercises. "What a delight that would be…" he murmured, forgetting the evident obstacle of my child for a moment. He gazed heavenward, like he was rapturously picturing me in immortal form.

After a moment of staring lovingly up into space he seemed to recall that I was still in the room, and he reluctantly mentally returned to earth. "But no, I do not think so. For now…" he said in a way that suggested this was subject to change, "…what you are, is… unique. I am not certain that there exists a proper term for it," Aro pondered aloud.

 _Oh._ Aro considered me to be a new category—neither human, nor vampire.

I wasn't sure whether that thought should give me comfort or unnerve me. Certainly, given the fact that I was pregnant and my unborn infant was some sort of hybrid being, it was probably a good thing. Fully-fledged vampires couldn't carry children. And full humans were probably too frail to survive the ordeal. So being something in-between was optimal.

But there was no telling how long this interim state would last. Would I be able to deliver my baby before I changed? So far the progress of the venom looked very slow. But with how quickly my baby had gone from no more than a zygote to a nearly full-grown baby, I was wary of making any predictions just yet.

And as I buried my hands in the thick woolen fabric of Aro's trench coat, I realized something else odd about being in some kind of vampire-human limbo. That is, that Aro didn't seem to care.

Obviously he was just as concerned as I was that the venom might have bad effects on my child. Aro had grown rather fond of my son, and based on his earlier doting behavior I suspected the idea of my son getting stuck inside me horrified him just as much as me.

But at the same time Aro didn't seem to be completely upset that I didn't definitively fall into either category—human or vampire—at the moment. Which, because of his romantic interest in me, struck me as totally bizarre.

The idea of anyone who was romantically interested in me not caring which state I was in, was a new one. Jacob always insisted that he couldn't love me if I ever became a "leech"—that if that were to ever occur, I could only be a monster in his eyes. And Edward had definitely expressed a marked preference for me as a human as well. Though, if I'd understood Aro's accusations from last night correctly, Edward desired me in that form for very different reasons.

On the other hand, I got the sense from his earlier words that Aro would prefer me in an immortal state—both for my safety and because he wasn't particularly interested in human women. And I was finding it rather difficult to reconcile that with what was happening now.

"And you don't… mind?" I asked, deliberately displaying my confusion.

Aro himself looked quite mystified as well. "And why might I mind, dearest Bella?" He asked, pulling back from our embrace so that he could look into my eyes without bending his neck.

He looked like he wanted to hold my hand, to maintain some kind of physical contact, even though he needed to be further apart than a hug would allow to watch my facial expressions. But oddly enough, he refrained from touching me, probably because of his promise to Carlisle that he wouldn't do anything without my explicit consent.

Feeling uncharacteristically bold all of sudden, I seized one of his porcelain hands in mine and began tracing lazy patterns over his palms with my fingers. I wasn't entirely sure why I did it, I was simply acting on impulse. Hormones was my go-to excuse. Though I supposed the action also let Aro know that I wanted him close—which was true enough, even though it wasn't for amorous reasons. And it did serve as a convenient distraction from his piercing eyes.

Initially Aro was stunned by the encroaching gesture, yet he relaxed almost instantly under my inexpert ministrations. And in that moment, as I massaged Aro's hand, whatever the doctor might think of us if he were here was completely irrelevant.

"I don't know… it's just…" I began uneasily. "You said some things last night… about Edward." I didn't dare look up from the pale appendage in my grasp. "You sort of implied that he was only interested in me as a human…" I reminded him.

Aro's words from last night echoed in my head. _He warned you of Edward's lack of empathy and paraphilic interest in human women!_ The words that let me know Aro was convinced that my husband's feelings for me had been based on some kind of perverse attraction.

I took a deep breath to banish that memory before I continued. "And I guess, I assumed that meant…" I paused, swallowing and gripping Aro's hand tightly to summon the courage to finish the sentence. "…that you were only interested in me as a potential vampire."

Aro's face suddenly fell. "That is not… completely inaccurate…" he admitted in a faint voice.

I let go of Aro's hand suddenly, as though it had burned me. "Are you saying you wouldn't be interested in me if I didn't have to or want to change?" I demanded to know, feeling affronted if that were the case.

 _Shouldn't love be unconditional?_ I thought. I guessed I was getting ahead of myself—Aro only had admitted to "affections". He'd said nothing about the L-word.

"Well, it would appear that you already are in some part of that process…" Aro hesitantly offered, as if to insinuate that the point was moot. That I would be a vampire eventually anyway, so there was no need to debate over hypotheticals.

I didn't agree.

"But if I wasn't? And I never wanted to?" I interrogated, my voice still strained with anger.

"Then it would be foolish in the extreme for me to even consider it," Aro rebutted.

Though I could tell he wasn't mad. As he stood, his head only a few inches higher than mine, he looked down at me with eyes that glittered with sadness. And his face was warped with hurt, like the knowledge that he couldn't live up to my unconditional expectations wounded him deeply.

"All human-vampire relationships must either end before they become too serious, or the human must become immortal," Aro reiterated matter-of factly.

After a few seconds of awkward silence, he added glumly, "Or… die…" It sounded like the prospect was unbearable to consider in my case.

 _Right. Change or die,_ I remembered. _That is the law._ _And he's right that it makes human-vampire relationships more complicated._

I nodded to signal that I understood.

"I would not excuse myself from the law, even though it would not be difficult, given my station…" Aro further explained. I supposed he wanted to make it clear that—even though his position among the Volturi meant he could probably get away with it—he was a principled man who wasn't about to make himself a hypocrite.

"Not to mention I do not consider Edward's sick fantasy of letting you live out the duration of your mortality, and then allowing you to die, to be a viable option," he contributed with a disgusted scoff. "Even if it were not against our laws for you to remain mortal, what kind of lover would that make me if I sought your demise?"

My entire body became rigid upon hearing Aro's last, desperate sentence.

I'd never thought of it that way.

Carlisle had always insisted that Edward's refusal to transform me was born of a noble cause—that Edward was simply reluctant to possibly take away my soul. But I could tell that Aro had a very different perspective. In his eyes, it seemed, to leave someone he profoundly cared about as a human was to coldly sentence them to death. To say that you didn't want your romantic partner to transform, I imagined was akin in his mind, to purposefully injecting your romantic partner with a terminal illness. And that was certainly a disturbing notion.

The only way one could have a healthy, long-term relationship with a vampire like Aro, I guessed, was to be vampire yourself.

Or at least, be intent on becoming one soon.

Aro confirmed this with his next statement. "If it so happened that we were to enter a serious relationship, it would become necessary to transform you," he announced, as a non-negotiable fact. "I am not a criminal. Nor an incubus," he insisted passionately, his distaste for both labels quite evident.

My lips turned downwards at his usage of that monstrous moniker again. "You keep using that word," I observed sourly. I raised one imperfect eyebrow. "What exactly does it mean?"

"Ah yes, I forget that it is not commonly understood by humans in the same way it is to vampires," Aro prefaced before he launched into an in-depth explanation.

"Incubus is a term that is used to describe male vampires that, for some indiscernible reason, are only sexually attracted to humans," Aro offered, as though he was reciting a definition from the Encyclopedia of Vampirism, or something.

"While most vampires exhibit a natural preference for their own kind…" his eyes meaningfully met mine, as if to justify his earlier words by insinuating that he was normal. "…Incubi and their female counterparts, succubi, from the moment of their creation, find our immortal bodies _disgusting_ ," Aro concluded with another sickened sound.

"Disgusting?" I found that incredibly hard to believe.

Every vampire I had ever met was the personification of gorgeous. _How could anyone, human or vampire, call that disgusting_? Certainly some were prettier than others. Rosalie and Heidi immediately came to mind. But not a single one I had met qualified as _disgusting_ by any stretch of the word.

Sensing my confusion, Aro immediately began to list some of the characteristics that incubi and succubi found unpleasant. "Our unique skin, our red eyes, our swift mannerisms and movements—all of these repulse them," he declared firmly.

"This, for obvious reasons, prevents them from forming proper mating bonds with other vampires. You cannot love that which you find repulsive," he revealed. "And in the most severe of cases, this revulsion might even manifest as self-loathing."

 _Self-loathing?_ I was about to dismiss the idea—to believe that Edward was not such an incubus, when I suddenly remembered something he'd said early on in our relationship.

 _This is the skin of a killer, Bella._

He'd been so nauseated when he'd said it. And looked at me like I was completely insane for thinking he was beautiful.

Clearly, he'd imagined that my reaction would be considerably fouler. That it would be immediately obvious that he was some kind of grotesque monster simply by looking at him. It hadn't made any sense then—because I only saw him as perfection.

But if the response Edward had been expecting from me was how he really felt about himself, I could see why he'd been surprised that I thought differently.

And if that was how he felt about all other vampires…

I bristled at the thought of Edward seeing Carlisle as something that sickened him. But it would make their somewhat strained relationship make more sense. And it would also made sense of Edward's belief that Carlisle had damned him somehow. If Edward saw all vampires as hideously ugly creatures, of course he would see immortality as a curse rather than a blessing.

"On the other hand," Aro continued, "incubi and succubi find mortal bodies absolutely _tantalizing_ ," he purred in mock-fascination. "But for all the wrong reasons." His throat constricted like he was about to gag. And his whole frame shuddered just thinking about it.

"They crave the touch of frail, hot skin. To look at human-colored eyes and watch human-paced mannerisms…" Aro wrung his hands uncomfortably and looked very much like just speaking of it made him want to take an extremely long bath.

"And the scent of human blood, particularly that which appeals to them, doesn't just stimulate their appetite…" he paused briefly for effect, and to gauge my reaction. "…but stimulates _other functions_ as well…"

It was clear from the way Aro spoke that he was insinuating that smelling human blood was _arousing_ to these vampires.

I shivered in unease.

If that was the case, no wonder Edward had immediately become obsessed with me after he'd nearly killed me in Biology class. As his singer—the one whose blood appealed to him more than any other—I could only imagine that my presence _was_ like a drug to him, as Edward had said. And not only in the one way I'd originally thought.

The idea of being not only Edward's personal heroin, but also his personal Viagra was…

Ugh. I couldn't go there. I just couldn't.

"It is a rather torturous existence, to be an incubus," Aro admitted with what I thought was a shockingly large helping of pity.

I supposed it wasn't terribly out of place though, since he'd no doubt felt through their thoughts what it was like.

"It is my belief that their sexual fascination with humans is an unfortunate conflation of our mating instincts with our natural thirst," he explained in a scholarly voice. "This is evidenced by the fact that the scent of human blood—what healthy vampires use to only to determine a suitable meal—is what those 'broken' vampires also use to determine a suitable mate." Aro chuckled humorlessly at the paradox.

"These desires are fundamentally at odds with each other," he told me firmly—a fact I'd already began to deduce for myself. "Because of this, succubi and incubi are perpetually torn apart by competing instincts," he went on, an obvious look of empathetic agony crossing his features as he described the fierce struggle. "The same person they are the most attracted to, is the one they also most want to _devour_."

My skin crawled as Aro finished. My russet-haired husband had _told_ me of this—that his desire for me and his desire for my blood were contending interests. But this knowledge had new nuances now that I knew why these desires had warred within him.

"I do not envy any vampire who had the misfortune of awakening in such a broken condition," Aro confided.

His words made it evident that being an incubus or succubus basically amounted to some kind of 'birth defect'. Well, as much as any being who proliferated through transformation could be said to have a 'birth'.

"Why do they exist?" I asked, intrigued by the minuscule hints Aro was dropping at their origins here and there.

"Aside from knowing that it is a life-long ailment they possess since their early days as a newborn, I haven't the faintest clue," Aro revealed with a defeated sigh and a heavy slump in his typically confident shoulders.

"For some time I presumed that it was somehow the fault of their makers. That newborns whose creators neglected or abused them were the most likely to exhibit incubus traits. And that in the absence of a loving caretaker, they developed an unhealthy relationship with the only other comfort in their lives—that is, food," Aro explained rationally.

I slowly nodded—that theory seemed reasonably sound.

At least until I started trying to apply it to actual vampires I knew.

Aro seemed to have the same experience. "But Carlisle does not even know the identity of his creator, and yet he turned out fully capable of healthy bonds with other vampires. And Edward was raised by one of the noblest vampires I know, and yet he is an incubus," he told me with evident bafflement.

"So I must concede that that theory holds no water," he breathed out in exasperation. He obviously wasn't thrilled that the evidence forced him to go all the way back to the drawing board.

"I should not be surprised, however," Aro mused aloud. His hands left mine to steeple in front of his chest. "Even in humans, the origins of sexual paraphilias are difficult to identify."

"Paraphilias?" Another unfamiliar word.

"Perversions, deviances, disturbing fetishes…" Aro offered as synonyms. "In our world, Edward's feelings for you would be frowned upon almost as severely as…" he struggled to search for an appropriate parallel, "…bestiality I suppose probably comes closest," he submitted somewhat uncertainly, as though the comparison was weak at best.

I could imagine there were a few connections, though, given how Jasper had explained that many vampires saw humans like herds of cattle.

"But that doesn't quite capture the full essence of it," Aro complained, quietly chiding himself for not coming up with a better analogy before he continued. "I suppose one might say the vampire populace views them like black widow spiders," he decided was a more apt description. "We are disturbed that they are incapable of seeing anything wrong with mating a human in one moment, and preying on them in the very next."

I shivered as I recalled the disturbing imagery from an Animal Planet video of exactly what Aro was talking about. _He is right. That_ _ **is**_ _disturbing._

"To the rest of us, humans are either potential mates or potential food. _Never_ both," Aro declared as an absolute.

"Oh," was all I could say.

 _So that must be why Aro didn't see me as dinner,_ I suddenly realized, recalling Alice's earlier words.

If I understood Aro correctly, since he had a crush on me, that basically completely prevented him from desiring for my blood—barring exceptional circumstances like prolonged starvation, I supposed.

And if he had desired my blood _instead,_ when we'd first met, that would have completely prevented him from developing a crush. The two categories were mutually exclusive in his mind.

And if Aro was to be believed, that was the case in all healthy vampires' minds.

"Okay but there's… still one thing I don't understand," I nervously told Aro after a moment's consideration. The question on my mind was such a horrible thing to ask, I almost considered keeping it too myself. But I had to know.

Aro eagerly leaned forward as those words left my trembling lips. "And that is?"

"What exactly makes your…" I paused, searching for the right word. "… _interest_ in me different than Edward's?"


	11. Chapter 11: Differences and Perversions

**AN: So yeah, I'm diverging from canon a bit more on the pregnancy here. Also, thought I should include a warning about this chapter. Incubi are discussed in a little more depth. And well... that entails some sexual discussion.**

* * *

…

 _I will willingly refrain from doing injury or wrong_

 _and from acts of an amorous nature._

 _(Original Version of the Hippocratic Oath)_

…

CHAPTER 11: DIFFERENCES AND PERVERSIONS

Aro jerked back from me, looking profoundly offended by my question. It was a horrible question to ask—especially now that Aro had explained just how vile the attractions of an incubus were. But I still couldn't quite tease out the difference between what Aro clearly saw as an abominable perversion, and his (apparently) pure-hearted crush on me.

Despite his affronted expression, Aro nonetheless deigned to answer. "I thought that would be obvious." He sounded perplexed and wounded by my insinuation that he might be exactly the same sort of beast. Or that I might agree with Carlisle. That I might think _Aro_ was the incubus instead of Edward.

"Edward _lusts_ after your body," Aro snapped with an appalled snarl. "Your personality is _irrelevant_ to him," he added in a way that clearly insinuated that Edward saw the fact that I even _had_ a personality to be an incredible nuisance.

Aro's venomous tone made me step back a bit. But his words didn't exactly shock me.

At least not at first.

I'd never quite understood what Edward liked about me, anyway. Whenever I'd pressed him for an answer he'd never been very specific. Which would make total sense if he hadn't really found anything interesting about me at all besides the fact that I was human, and his singer.

But after a moment of silence, I realized that Aro's declaration wasn't just an indictment against Edward. He also seemed to be implying that unlike my late husband, he _did_ like me for more than my body. An insinuation that only served to bewilder me.

 _What on earth_ _ **else**_ _could Aro be interested in?_ I puzzled. _This was only our second time meeting each other!_

"But you can't like me for my personality," I reminded him, taking another cautious step back. "You don't even know me."

As I wandered slowly backwards, comprehension suddenly replaced the injury and anger that had consumed Aro's aristocratic features. My remarks seemed to help him understand why I doubted his assertions.

Though it was equally obvious that he didn't agree with what I'd said.

His lips slowly curled into a small frown. "That is not… entirely true…" Aro tentatively began. "When Edward came to Volterra asking to die, he shared all of his thoughts with me. Thoughts that included all of his memories of the time he spent with you."

I wanted to slap my forehead at my utter stupidity. _Of course._

 _Damn me for forgetting about his powers._

 _Again._

"Initially, seeing you through Edward's eyes was not very impressive," Aro admitted with a minute grimace. His gritted teeth and stiffened posture told me that the thoughts he had obtained from my husband were quite disturbing.

I winced as I too, pictured what I must have looked like through an incubus' eyes. Frail. Slow. Stupid. Hideous. And yet somehow alluring at the same time. I shuddered to think that Aro had seen me that way first.

"But when I met you a short time later…" Aro said with a much happier expression. His eyes lit up with visible awe as he recalled the experience. "You exceeded all of my expectations."

 _I made a better impression when he saw me in person?_ I found that hard to believe. _Even when I'd been soaked in fountain water and my hair was mussed from running? Even when I'd been nervous and mumbling and completely out of my element? Was Edward's view of me really so bad that it was worse than that?_

"I did?" I asked incredulously.

Aro nodded. "What Edward saw as a girl with an idiotic death wish, I saw as woman who was so compassionate that she was willing to set aside everything, even her _own life_ , for those she loved," he offered as the first example of how our meeting changed his perspective on me.

My eyebrows rose halfway up my forehead. _Aro really thought that? That my stupid habit of sacrificing myself was… er…_ _ **noble**_ _somehow?_

"Your power," he continued, "which Edward saw as a fluke at best, and as an infuriating obstacle at worst, I saw as a wonderful gift that hinted at an enigmatic character," he gave as a second example.

Although this time, Aro's words, while beautiful, were so oblique. I wasn't sure I was catching on.

Visibly confused, I repeated, "Enigmatic character?"

Aro paused in his praise and supplied another short nod. "You see, our gifts are extensions of our personality," he explained. "Jane's power is a manifestation of her sadistic disposition. Jasper's power comes from his innate charisma. And my power is a natural extension of my curiosity—that is, my desire to understand peoples' pasts and motivations," Aro supplied as three examples of that idea, deliberately choosing vampires I was familiar with to illustrate his point.

 _Edward had said something about that before,_ I internally acknowledged. _That he'd always tried to "read people" while he was still human. And that part of him had been enhanced into a supernatural gift once he'd been bitten._

So Aro's deduction was starting to make sense.

But I still wasn't' sure what this had to do with me.

"Your gift," Aro continued in the same worshipful voice as before, "…the barrier that is on your thoughts, instantly intrigued me because it made me wonder what it is about you that makes you more guarded than the others," he shared, clasping his hands in front of his chest.

"The others?" I asked uncertainly.

"Almost everyone I touch is _uncomfortable_ with the knowledge that I can gain all of their innermost, private thoughts," Aro informed me with an empathetic shiver. "I am very familiar with the _terror_ that seizes most when they realize what my power is capable of. When they realize that ultimately, they can hide nothing from me."

I swallowed heavily, but nodded to convey that I understood. Even though I had nothing really worth hiding, the idea of anyone probing around in my innermost thoughts was about as exciting as the prospect of being impaled through the head with multiple knitting needles. Minds were private for a reason. And I couldn't imagine that there were many who felt otherwise. Especially those who _did_ have something to hide…

"And yet, despite sufficient motivation, no one has been able to thwart my gift. Aside from you," Aro proceeded with a simultaneously bewildered and impressed tone. "Isn't that _fascinating?_ "

My cheeks flushed red under Aro's effusive praise. I rubbed my scarred wrist in embarrassment. "Well, maybe I'm just a screw up," I mumbled, repeating what I'd told Edward. _Maybe something was wrong with my head. Maybe that's why no one can affect it._

"I do not think so," Aro said, shaking his head. "I can read addled minds," he insisted. His hands unclasped to flutter in a discomfited pattern before they settled back into place again. Like the experiences he had gained from reading "addled minds" were particularly unpleasant.

"Besides, you do not exhibit any of the signs of mental deficiency," Aro assured me in a confident tone.

 _Good to know._

"Okay… so you thought… because vampire powers are related to personality, that mine must be…?" I trailed off, gesturing for him to finish the sentence. Because I had absolutely no clue what Aro thought a mental barrier would entail, character-wise.

"Protective," Aro answered. "Your power is not offensive, nor manipulative, nor invasive. Its only function is defense."

He'd said that last sentence with obvious satisfaction, like the fact that my powers didn't trespass on anyone else was a good thing.

But when I heard this, automatically my face fell.

"Isn't that… sorta lame?" I asked him, recalling what Alice had said in March about Aro preferring to collect formidable gifts for his arsenal. Defense, especially when it was just personal defense, sounded terribly un-useful.

Aro staunchly shook his head. "Not at all. Defense is a very honorable motive," he expressed in an admiring voice. "It shows that you have a remarkable humility and a deep respect for others' wishes."

 _A deep respect for others' wishes? That's what Aro likes about me?_ I didn't think it was anything extraordinary.

"That's just called being nice," I said with a sour frown.

"Ah if only that were true!" Aro exclaimed in a half-humored, half-lamenting voice. "Unfortunately, what you call 'being nice' is quite rare."

"Um. Alright," I weakly accepted, figuring that as a mind-reader, he probably knew better than I. "So you like that I'm nice? But doesn't that make me… well… _gullible_?" My missing husband had always thought so.

"Ah, ah, ah," Aro chided, waving a single chastising finger to suggest that I wasn't allowed to speak negatively about myself. "That is _Edward_ speaking," the ancient vampire identified with distaste. "He might see you as naïve. Too quick to trust. Too quick to be convinced of another's virtues…"

 _Those were all things Edward had said, yes._

"But I say that you are actually quite reasonable," Aro countered with a warm smile. Then he rushed on to give examples before I could protest his reasoning. "You reserve judgment when you lack the proper information. And you see the best in everyone, despite their faults."

 _You truly are just as remarkably gracious about our kind as Carlisle said you were,_ I suddenly remembered Aro saying.

"You really are a marvel, Bella," Aro effused.

I was awestruck by his description. And the transcendently happy face which accompanied it.

 _This was how he really felt? Everything that Edward had complained about, he saw as a token in my favor? Everything that Edward had found unsettling or potentially appalling about me, Aro simply adored?_

Logically I knew that there had to be _some_ things about me that even Aro found vexing. My obtuseness was a fair guess. And my uncanny knack for finding my way into the worst of troubles probably also frustrated him. But at the same time, it was nice to have a definitive list of things that Aro liked about me. Edward had never given one.

And that had always bothered me.

"And after I'd had the incredible pleasure of meeting you, all of Edward's memories had new meaning," Aro continued, spreading his arms in a wide arc to visually demonstrate all the possibilities that had been opened to him. "Although the ungrateful _fiend's_ perception of you was highly distracting, even through _his_ vile eyes, I could see what he was missing." he said in a voice that suggested Edward was a fool for thinking my best feature was my body.

"During the months that we were apart, I played the memories over in my head a thousand times," Aro admitted with faraway eyes. "It was so wonderful to spend time with you," he gushed before his face fell and he softly sighed. "Even if it was from someone else's perspective."

I blinked in stupefaction as I realized what this meant. Every moment that Edward and I had spent together, Aro had effectively spent with me too. All of our dates. All the conversations we'd shared. Every time we'd lied in the meadow and said nothing at all. Every touch. Every kiss….

All of that was Aro's too.

My head reeled at the implications. _But that would mean—_

"At this time, I feel as though I know you just as well, if not more so than he did at that time," Aro revealed, saying aloud what I hadn't quite finished articulating in my head.

"I realize that my gift makes our knowledge of one another rather one-sided. And of course I do not expect you to reciprocate the depth of my feelings immediately," Aro stipulated with two raised palms, to show he would never presume to push me into anything before I was ready.

"Or even at all, if you find the idea completely untenable…" he allowed with a pained frown.

Though, it was clear to me that he desperately wanted _something_ to work out between us, because he was already so invested in me as it was. For that to go completely unreciprocated would be… _devastating._

And yet, he was still very conscientious of my desires. What _I_ wanted was of paramount importance to him.

My heart jolted as I recognized this. _Maybe I wasn't wrong before. Maybe the L-word wasn't premature, in this instance…_

"But please do not misunderstand the nature of my affections," Aro begged me, his voice breaking with emotion.

Feeling immediately guilty for ever implying that Aro and Edward were similar, I immediately dipped my head and gave my sincerest apology. "I'm so sorry. I didn't understand before. But I think I get it now," I told him. "You care about me—the real me."

The prospect still felt totally insane. _Aro, liking the real me?_

But it was true.

And Aro nodded vigorously in confirmation of that fact.

I chewed my lower lip nervously before I asked, "So… what do you want me to do?"

"Whatever it is you wish, my dear," Aro permitted as he stooped into a deep bow in front of the large windows.

He'd meant the action as a gesture of affection and humility. But as I watched him straighten from the bow and press his palms together in a prayer-like position, I started to worry that Aro had the opposite kind of problem. That he saw me as some kind of virginal angel—something pure and incorruptible that he couldn't bear to defile.

Knowing that a healthy relationship required both emotional _and_ physical attraction, I felt like I needed to clear something up. But the inquiry I wanted to make was so awkward.

 _Damn it, how do I get myself into these situations?_ I wondered with flaming cheeks.

I steeled myself for Aro's reaction by taking in a deep breath before I dropped my next proverbial bomb. "So… you like my personality. But, do you still find me… er… _sexy_ …?"

A large lump passed through my throat after the words left my trembling lips. I expected the worst.

However, this time, to my surprise, Aro didn't look offended by my question at all. In fact, all that changed was that his eyes darkened—momentarily turning black with some unreadable emotion. Then he raked them over me hungrily in that 'checking-me-out' motion he'd done before.

" _Absolutely_ ," Aro purred in a voice that made the little hairs on the back of my neck tingle.

An electric shiver raced down my spine as I registered the obvious desire in his voice. _Clearly, I wouldn't have to worry that Aro didn't want me in_ _ **that**_ _manner._

"Though I should be clear that I am most interested in what you will _become_ ," he added after a moment, to make sure that I understood he wasn't all that enthused with my current human form.

I gaped. "Are you saying you think I'm ugly right now?"

"Heavens, no!" Aro exclaimed, distraught by the thought. "I am simply trying to articulate that I am not attracted to human flesh…" he trailed off, clearly not pleased with what had come out of his mouth.

"I find you very attractive already!" Aro maintained, seizing one of my hands and shaking it vigorously to demonstrate the depth of his passion. "And that is an excellent testament to your potential…."

Aro dropped my hand, stopped talking all of sudden, and made a frustrated noise, like he wasn't really finding the right words to get his point across.

 _Wait, he isn't attracted to human flesh, but he thinks I'm very attractive already?_ I was hopelessly confused.

"I'm not sure 'potential' is part of a healthy relationship," I warily contributed. _Wasn't trying to change someone a bad sign?_

"Potential is _always_ a part of relationships, Bella," Aro contested.

Then his face suddenly lit up as he had an epiphany. "I presume you are not naïve enough to believe that the other men in your life, who have expressed romantic interest in you, were not at least a _little_ excited by the potential they might discover _beneath your clothing_ …" he drawled in a suddenly saucy voice.

My whole body flushed bright red.

He was right, but that was beside the point.

"So you're saying that to you… imagining me as a vampire is…"

 _I couldn't say it._

Luckily, I didn't have to.

"Akin to imagining you naked?" Aro finished for me with a devilish grin before he answered his own question. " _Precisely_."

Aro's last words made me feel like thousands of tiny flames were licking at every inch of my skin. The idea of Aro undressing me in his mind was too much. The images that idea conjured up were too steamy for my brain to function.

But Aro only made it worse as he continued. "Though the little 'preview' of your immortality that Alice supplied me with certainly helps," he said, his grin widening. "You really will be _breathtaking._ "

Aro's eyes drifted heavenward and sparkled with delight, suggesting to me that he was now mentally undressing _vampire-me_ in his head.

I started to feel faint from all the heat. Really all this (unwarranted) praise was flustering me. But I tried to focus anyway.

 _That's right._ I remembered. _Aro already knew what I would look like as a vampire. Alice had needed to prove that it would happen, since Edward couldn't bring himself to want to transform me. So she'd shown him my future._

And apparently, judging by the way Aro was gazing lovingly into the sky, my future self was really, _really_ hot.

"And I must confess," Aro went on, his ruby eyes slowly drifting back to earth. "After Alice gifted me with that vision… well… I find it quite impossible to see you any other way," he admitted with a sheepish smile. "It is not so different from how you are now..." he offered as a sort of assurance that my human form was still pretty in his eyes.

One of my eyebrows raised skeptically at that last comment. "Really?"

"Truly," Aro insisted.

I shook my head in utter disbelief. "It can't be… I mean Edward always said that the 'me' he saw in Alice's vision was so different she was…" my face scrunched in displeasure, "…a completely different person."

Aro scoffed. "Of course an incubus would say that." he stated as if it were an observation as obvious as the weather. "In his eyes your immortal self is completely unappealing. As if someone were to replace you with a cold, stone _gargoyle_ carved in your likeness." He let out a low snarl of distaste.

"From my perspective, however" Aro countered. "I see your human form as a blurry image, and your immortal self as the pristine photograph. You are the same person, just… a little visually enhanced," he elucidated, wiggling his fingers in the air around my form to demonstrate.

 _Oh. That made sense._

"And now that you've seen the 'pristine photograph' so to speak. It's easy to fill in the blanks of the blurry one?" I mused aloud, trying to reason out if that was why Aro saw me now as he did in Alice's vision. It guessed it wasn't too far of a stretch.

" _Exactly,_ " Aro confirmed with an enthusiastic grin. "I may not harbor any desire to sleep with you while you are mortal…" Aro confessed with a small cringe, as though the idea was slightly frightening.

I too stiffened as I tried to picture such a scenario from Aro's point of view. It would be like trying to have sex with a porcelain figurine. A porcelain figurine capable of feeling pain and full of squishy organs and chocolate syrup. My stomach churned at the thought and suddenly I felt a pang of sympathy for Aro. That would be awful.

"But you need not fear that I am not… _physically interested_ …" Aro finished, reverently taking one of my hands in his once more, and smoothing his fingers over it delicately.

A brief silence ensued, during which Aro tenderly massaged my fingers. During the lapse into quiet, I dipped my head in shame for having asked a _second_ unforgivably rude question.

Aro seemed to mistake my gesture as one of fear or avoidance. "I apologize if any of this has seemed inappropriate—" he started to say.

Immediately my head shot back up and I cut him off. "No. I appreciate your honesty."

And it was true. I did.

I just didn't know what to do with it.

After all, even if Aro possessed all of the right feelings to be a suitable boyfriend, I still had plenty of reservations about "courting" him, given our marked difference in age and our, perhaps insurmountable, differences in morals. He had thousands of years more education and experience—which meant that we could never be intellectual equals. And his rather blasé opinion of eating humans was something that I was unlikely to accept anytime soon.

At least, I hoped that was the case… Though my recent foray into the world of human blood drinking made me a lot more uncertain of that fact than I would have liked.

It sure was _delicious_ …

And, of course, as I conveniently kept forgetting, legally, I was still married to Edward. And it just wouldn't be right to allow another to pursue me when that was the case.

I nervously twisted the enormous diamond finger on my left hand around a couple of times, trying to figure out what I should do now.

"You still look confused, dearest Bella," Aro observed, his words and his gentle hands tugging at mine, bringing me out of my thoughts. "Is there something else you would like to ask me, while we still have the privilege of Carlisle's absence?"

 _Oh that's right. Carlisle will be back from the hospital at some point,_ I remembered suddenly. _And we probably shouldn't discuss anything about our feelings or about Edward being an incubus around him. At least, not for a while,_ I decided.

Carlisle deserved some rest from _that_ discussion for at least a couple of days.

So I had to take advantage of this unique opportunity. Even if it had come to us because something horrifying was happening to my body that made Carlisle run off to the hospital to see if there was anything there that could "help".

Whatever was happening to me now—with the venom and the odd patches of cool, but not hard, skin that were popping up—I would have to worry about later. There was no use freaking out about it now, anyway. Aro and I had already came to the silent conclusion that there wasn't anything that could be done until we knew more. Which, I presumed was exactly what Carlisle was trying to do at this very moment.

And so, for now, I would focus on the plethora of unanswered questions I had from last night.

I shrugged limply and stared pensively out of the long windows. "I'm just not sure what I should do," I confessed.

"What is it that you wish to do?" Aro gently probed, continuing to delicately rub my wrist.

My teeth immediately set into my lower lip. It was a bad habit of mine. "I'm not sure," I mumbled.

Embarrassed, I looked towards the floor, because it wasn't true. I knew exactly what I wanted to do, I simply had no clue how to break the news to Aro.

"I… I think…" I started turning my diamond ring nervously around my finger again. "…based on what you've told me… and… my own experiences… I… I…" I trailed off uncertainly, looking everywhere but towards Aro.

 _I couldn't say it. It was too fast. It was wrong._

"Do not be afraid to tell me, Bella." Aro's dulcet tones tickled my ears as he floated closer. "I assure you, I can handle it," he revealed in a voice that was steeling itself for rejection.

Realizing that he'd gotten the wrong idea entirely, I abruptly stopped chewing on my lip. And ceased turning my ring around.

I needed to tell him the truth so that he would stop needlessly fretting. I wasn't about to abandon him now—not when he was basically my only life-line. No, what I was about to do was in some ways much worse, but in others much better. And Aro deserved to know the truth.

Audibly, I swallowed.

I took a deep breath.

And looked Aro dead in the eyes.

"I want to divorce Edward," I announced as definitively as I could.

Immediately Aro heaved an enormous sigh of relief. He'd obviously been expecting a rather different response. Probably one that included me telling him to get lost.

Once he'd composed himself, Aro remarked supportively, "Well that seems like a perfectly reasonable course of action."

"But is it really okay to throw in the towel so soon?" I protested, furious with myself for wanting to break it off at the first sign of struggle. "We promised each other forever!" I reminded the both of us.

Tears stung the corners of my eyes. Tears that grieved for the loss of eternal love with Edward's kinder doppelganger. Tears that started to run freely over my cheeks as I realized that the fairytale had never been real to begin with. That all of Edward's words and bargains had ultimately been self-serving and nothing else. That he'd never loved me the way that I had so fiercely loved him.

It was a horrible realization.

And I sobbed hysterically as the full weight of it started to rest on my shoulders.

But just as I was beginning to lose it, a lean, muscular pair of arms encircled me from behind and tugged me softly into a comforting embrace. As ten slender fingers fastened in front of my ballooning stomach, suddenly I stopped crying.

"There is no shame in leaving a toxic relationship," came Aro's feathery voice in my ear. "Edward _is_ an incubus, after all," he finished as though that was plenty of justification in and of itself.

"But is that really that bad?" I prodded, sniffling away the last vestiges of tears. _Sure, Edward had threatened to do some pretty unforgivable things. But he had never actually followed through…_ "I mean… what exactly has he… _done_?"

In all that I'd heard so far, this had never really been explicitly explained to me. And I figured that was an important bit of information. If I was still going to remain married to him—which seemed practically impossible at this point—I needed to know. And even if I wasn't going to stay with him, it would certainly help me make that decision.

Aro's face looked more ashen than usual. Like the answer to my question was particularly disturbing and he would rather not tell. His sudden trepidation only made me more curious.

"Was I… not the first?" I asked uneasily.

 _Had Edward lied to me about being a virgin? Edward had been very adamant about "no sex until marriage". But had that been just a ploy? A trick to get me to wait until we were somewhere where no one would hear me scream if Edward did screw up?_

That was the only bad thing I could think of off the top of my head that I could imagine would be related to Edward being an incubus.

"He has not had sexual intercourse with any other humans, if that is your concern," Aro revealed. "He was not lying about his personal behavior and beliefs in _that_ regard."

 _That was a relief._

"But has he had other human girlfriends?" I asked, partially curious and partially afraid of the answer I might hear.

Aro exhaled slowly, exasperated and sad. "Yes," he confirmed. "Though, until he met you, none ever lasted long," he finished in a grave tone.

I swallowed anxiously.

I didn't like the sound of that.

"Did he… _kill_ them?" I choked out.

Aro frowned. "Not typically," he explained with a slow shake of his head. "Close proximity to humans, inevitably entails _accidents_ …" he stipulated. "Especially when the humans a vampire keeps company with smell delectable, and said vampire is living on an insufficient diet," he added to make it clear that Edward's track record wasn't one-hundred-percent clean, though not conspicuously less so than any of the other Cullens.

"But the vast majority of them he simply became bored with."

I tried to ignore the fact that Aro had just glossed over a few human women's deaths as though they were inconsequential and focus on his last statement. My head tilted towards him in confusion. "Bored with?"

"Have you ever wondered why it is that Edward chose you?" Aro enquired completely out of the blue.

 _All the time,_ I thought.

"Because I'm his singer?" I suggested weakly.

"Partially." Aro stepped out of our hug and lifted a wavering hand to the level of his chest. "Your blood is a potent attractant. But that was not the only reason," he clarified.

"Edward's telepathy complicates things," Aro began to explain. "Because he is only interested in human _flesh_ and not human personalities, being forced to listen to all of their inane thoughts as he interacts with them _aggravates_ him," he expressed with clenched fists representing Edward's feelings.

"To be fair, listening to countless women praising your attractiveness can get unbearably dull quite quickly," he conceded with a snide chuckle. "But still. Even their most intelligent thoughts, he found vexing. Mostly because they distracted him from his _fantasies_ ," he spat like the word was poison in his mouth.

"You were, in his eyes, a godsend because your thoughts wouldn't get in the way," Aro presented as my husband's reasoning, a cold growl punctuating his words. "He could care less if your thoughts were airy and vapid. Or if you were Stephen Hawking on the inside."

"To him, you were the perfect solution," Aro went on. "Instead of living in perpetual frustration, never finding a woman he could tolerate long enough to fathom marrying her, he could imagine whatever his sick heart desired. And your only answer was silence."

The hair on the back of my neck stood up at how eerie that sounded. _My only answer was silence_. The way Aro had said it made it sound like intellectually I was _dead_ to Edward. And that he _liked it_ that way.

My heart lurched at the idea. It was deeply disturbing to think that what Edward appreciated most about me was the fact that he didn't have to listen to me. That he could completely disregard who I really was in favor of entertaining his lewd imagination.

Certainly Aro thought my power was interesting too. But if I were to trust his earlier words, he saw my "silent mind" as an incentive to get to know me better. Whereas Edward saw it as an invitation to never learn who I really was at all.

I swallowed again.

And my son, sensing my unease, wriggled uncomfortably in my stomach.

"If Edward's personal sexual mores were not so restrictive, perhaps he would have more options," Aro suggested hypothetically. "But since he wouldn't allow himself the pleasures of the flesh until marriage, it was imperative that he find a human he could stand," he explained, before taking one of my hands in his. "That is, a woman whose mind wouldn't make a peep."

"Okay, so what you're saying is I was his only option."

Aro swallowed heavily. "Yes," he agreed softly, drawing a small arc across my thumb with his. "And because of this, in just a short time, he became deeply attached to you," Aro said in a way sounded more like he was describing being trapped in quicksand than being in a relationship.

"Marcus proved it was not a healthy attachment. Like all mate-like bonds incubi form, his connection to you is fueled by _lust_ and nothing else," Aro was sure to mention so that I didn't get the wrong idea. "But even so, if you were to perish…" Aro gulped again, obviously distraught by the concept. "…he would lose that."

Aro's words reminded me of what he'd said before over the phone when he'd believed I was dead. _He was rather attached to her. Extremely so. Whatever will he do now?_ Aro had said then. This time, Aro also seemed to share some of the same sympathetic pain—to feel sorry for Edward in the hypothetical situation of my demise.

"But then… why leave?"

It was the one thing that still didn't make any sense. _If I was Edward's only ticket to sexual fulfillment, then why abandon that?_

"Most incubi and succubi are not so controlled or concerned with whether or not their victims die," came Aro's obvious observation. "Though, contrary to popular opinion, I do not know of a single one who _intended_ to kill the human they became attached to from the outset," he told me in refutation of a common myth about such creatures. "It simply tends to be the unfortunate result, because of unequal strength, which inevitably causes injuries. And, of course, our natural inclination to drink human blood when it is spilled."

I shivered as I imagined some shadowy vampiric figure who was intimately entwined with a human woman accidentally grip her bare waist with such ferocity that the skin beneath the shadow's hand burst, issuing thick rivulets of blood onto the bedsheets. The woman in my mind screamed in agony. But the smell of the liquid distracted the shadowy vampire, who—being lost in their instincts in the heat of the moment—succumbed to their thirst in the confusion. I watched the vampire eagerly bury their teeth into the human woman's vulnerable neck before the vision faded to black.

Oblivious to my dark inner musings, Aro grimaced before he rehashed what I supposed he believed was Edward's only redeeming feature. "As I mentioned before, Edward is unique in his capacity to understand his limits. And the restraint he is capable of is unprecedented."

Instantly, I remembered Aro's words of astonishment in Volterra when he'd discovered that my blood sang to Edward. _How can you stand so close to her like that?_ he'd asked, as though it was a herculean task to simply be close enough to touch me, and still resist the call to devour my blood _. I certainly never thought to see Carlisle bested for self-control of all things, but you put him to shame,_ Aro had asserted.

And as crazy of a thing as that seemed like to say, Aro would know.

If he said Edward had more restraint than Carlisle, then Edward had more restraint than Carlisle.

It was that simple.

"Because he is so controlled, Edward is also rather patient for an incubus," Aro went on in reluctant praise. "When Jasper nearly killed you on your eighteenth birthday—Edward decided it was best to separate his family from you and take a different route with his attachment after a short period of absence," he informed me. "In his mind, it was obvious that an overt relationship wasn't going to work anymore. You would be in too much danger from the others."

I stiffened as I was reminded of that bleak phase of my life, when Edward pretended I hadn't mattered to him in order to protect me from potential future incidents with his family. Now, I more fully comprehended why he'd done it—it wasn't just my safety, but also his attachment that was on the line. But that didn't do anything to lessen the sting of those memories. If anything, it only made it worse.

"And as soon as the two of you started dating, you began to request that he make you immortal," Aro brought up as the other problem Edward had been eager to avoid. "Leaving would resolve both of those issues."

My head inclined in confusion. "How would…?"

But Aro had already anticipated my next question. "Do you recall his suggestion to you that you move on? That you seek a human lover and live a 'normal life'?" he asked in a smooth, tactfully sensitive voice.

Aro obviously knew that this period of my life was one which had brought me a great deal of despair, and wasn't keen on unnecessarily unearthing all of that. But nonetheless he believed it was imperative for me to understand Edward's crooked line of thinking.

I nodded glumly as I remembered.

But Edward hadn't understood—after meeting him, there was no way I could have any sort of life that could be considered normal. Not to mention that, at the time, _he was_ my life.

"That is precisely what Edward hoped you would do, given enough time," Aro confirmed for me. "He always intended to return, alone, without any other vampires to potentially harm you, and hopefully after you'd settled down with someone human, so that you wouldn't keep pestering him to change you into something he found repulsive," he explained with a sorrowful shake of his head. Evidently it made him sad that Edward saw vampirism in such a negative manner.

"But then… he wouldn't be able to marry me…"

Aro cut me off. "You are correct. But he would rather settle for…" his face suddenly turned nauseated, "… _touching himself_ while he watched you sleep, than give you up entirely."

My complexion immediately went green. "He was going to…? Sneak into my room and…?"

I was unwilling to say _masturbated_ in front of Aro. He seemed like too much of a gentleman.

But thankfully Aro understood my implication and somberly nodded. "His personal beliefs would preclude him from touching _you_ directly. However, he planned to hover over you and utilize his unfortunately vivid imagination."

I shivered again. Apparently _consent_ was not a part of Edward's vocabulary. Though _technical virgin_ apparently was.

"Of course… your attempted suicide was never part of the plan…"

"I wasn't trying to kill myself," I countered.

Which was true. Sure I'd been reckless, and pathetically desperate to see those odd flashes of Edward again. But death had never been my intent.

Aro raised a single black eyebrow in evidence of his skepticism. "As I understand it, you threw yourself off a cliff," he said as though that was an obvious example of suicidal intent.

Which… well, I could definitely see how it might _look_ that way.

"I was just… doing it for the adrenaline…" I mumbled in embarrassment.

Aro smiled sheepishly as though he still didn't completely believe me, but decided to agree with my story for the sake of moving along. "Regardless… Edward misconstrued your intentions, and that brought you to me." He smirked a bit, as though that was the silver lining to this awful tale.

"And it brought him and I back together…" I hesitantly reminded him.

Aro pursed his lips, clearly frustrated by that portion of the story. "Yes," he curtly agreed.

"Edward decided that you were far too danger-prone to be safe in his absence," Aro remarked, resuming his story. "I suppose he must have calculated that even with his family near, you were in a lot less danger of dying than you were by yourself," he posited as his conjecture. His tone shifted to one of considerably less confidence, though, since he was now speaking of events that had happened after he had read Edward's mind.

"Plus, it gave him the obvious advantage of being back in your presence again. And in an overt relationship… which, like all people, he does rather prefer..."

As Aro trailed off, I gave a short nod to convey that I was following. All of Aro's claims were making sense so far.

But there was still one thing that didn't quite fit.

"So why did he leave me _again_?"

"I cannot say for certain, since I have not read his mind since he left Volterra," Aro admitted with a helpless shrug. "And to be perfectly candid, this most recent decision of his perplexes me more than anything."

 _Even Aro is confused about this._ I thought, terrified by the prospect. _And he is supposed to know everything._

Aro paused to consider the litany of possible desirable outcomes before he seemed to settle on one that could fit Edward's motivations. "I could imagine that he believes that his absence would prompt you to abort the child," he submitted in a pondering tone. "Did he suggest to you any alternatives before he left?"

My face distorted as I remembered that he had. _Bad ones._

"…Yeah. A couple days before I called you he asked 'if it had to be his baby'. Like he thought there was some other option."

I certainly hadn't felt like there was.

"I told him I didn't want some stranger's kid. Or… Jacob's…"

I shuddered at the thought of being loaned out on weekends like some cheap rental movie in order to conceive a child that wasn't Edward's, like he'd suggested. It was another instance where Edward's complete disregard for our marital vows was evident. Surely he would never cheat on me because he was worried about his oh-so-precious soul. But apparently if _I_ cheated on him to have a baby—if that was something I really wanted—that was perfectly acceptable.

 _What a hypocrite._

I scowled in disgust at the memory. "I tried to explain that I don't want some generic kid," I waved a single hand around in the air to suggest the concept of children generally—something that had never held much appeal. "But since this baby was ours… he's special to me."

I dropped the hand to my side in abrupt defeat. "Edward didn't understand."

Aro laced his fingers between mine and dourly shook his head for the third time. "He wouldn't. As an incubi, even his familial bonds are strained because of his innate disgust towards vampires. The only appreciation he has for the Cullens has grown as a result of many decades of companionship—a gradual buildup of tolerance," he explained as slowly and delicately as he could.

"For a vampire neither of you have even met to consume your heart so thoroughly already… it is inconceivable to him."

I blinked in shock as Aro's words began to sink in.

All of Edward's hateful words about my baby suddenly made sense. He had automatically assumed the infant was cruel and disgusting because that's how he perceived vampires in general. And without any personal experience to teach him otherwise—and certainly not decades of exposure—he couldn't imagine my little boy any other way.

"And you thought… you thought, even with all this, that it might be okay to not tell me?" I asked, as I recalled the other bit of momentous info that Aro had admitted last night. "To let me stay with him?"

Aro swallowed uneasily and fluidly disconnected our hands. "Initially no. I wanted to tell you right away," he revealed, his past urgency coloring his tone. "But I trusted Carlisle's judgment. And I rationalized to myself that I must be missing some part of the puzzle for Carlisle to praise Edward so highly," he confessed with a guilty bow of his head.

"And at the time, you appeared happy with Edward. Your reunion in Volterra was… very convincing…" he offered as his last excuse.

I recalled Aro's sorrowful word's from last night. _I knew that Edward could never love her as potently as she deserved_. _It simply is impossible given his unfortunate condition. But if Isabella was truly happiest in that arrangement… then who was I to interfere?_

"Eventually, I realized the notion of Edward being suitable for you in any fashion was ludicrous in the extreme," Aro continued with a sad chortle at his own naiveté. "But I realized this too late," he added, peering directly at the heavy diamond ring weighing on my left hand. The evidence that he was unable to prevent our disastrous union.

"To this day I deeply regret that mistake," Aro admitted with a heavy sigh. "I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me," he pleaded, cupping my wrist like it was china in his hands and dipping his head to place an icy kiss on the rim of my knuckles.

My fingers felt set ablaze by his wintry lips.

And at once I couldn't be mad at him for his decision anymore. His story had caused me to realize just how much Aro couldn't know. Even with his terrifyingly perceptive power, he was far from omniscient. Finally I was beginning to understand why he'd lamented that his gift was limited when I'd seen him in Volterra. Aro could only know what someone had been thinking or planning up until that moment that he read their thoughts. If they changed their mind without warning, after he'd touched them, he was just as unprepared for it as the rest of us.

Aro had simply been acting according to his best knowledge.

It wasn't _his_ fault that his trusted friend Carlisle had a rather warped view of Edward.

Or that I'd idiotically thrown caution to the wind and had unprotected sex with a vampire. Twice.

"I don't blame you," I admitted at last.

This statement made Aro's whole visage light up and his eyes glow with admiration. Evidently he'd thought it likely that I would deem him to be at fault, and therefore declare him unworthy of my affections.

"And I… I did love Edward. So I am sort of glad that you didn't interfere," I confessed, surprised at how true the words felt—how much I'd appreciated the time we'd had together, despite how insidiously I'd been betrayed by Edward.

And how distinctly my love for him now felt… well… _past tense_.

 _As it should,_ a voice located somewhere in the recesses of my mind told me.

I paused for a moment before I continued to explain my feelings. "Even knowing all of this… I can't hate him."

Surprisingly, it was the truth. Hate wasn't something that I felt easily, anyway.

"I just feel… sorry for him," I said, my voice heavy with pity.

Aro had made it rather clear that being an incubus wasn't something that a vampire chose. And it seemed like an awful curse to be perpetually torn between wanting to bang and consume the same person. I wouldn't wish that on anyone.

"Is there any cure?" I probed hopefully.

"None that I am aware of," Aro informed me, his hands still soothingly wrapped around my wrist. "There are legends of succubi and incubi who have been cleansed by the power of 'pure love'," he said the term with a sickly sweetness, like it belonged in a childish fairytale and had absolutely no place in real life.

"But I cannot be sure whether those legends are merely wishful thinking on the part of mortals, or grounded in truth, as the myths about half-vampire children have been proven to be." He shrugged and his eyes whirled about the room as if to illustrate that there were a million possibilities.

It was clear that my unprecedented pregnancy had completely shaken his confidence in his ability to discern between myths which relayed accurate information, and those which were merely drivel.

"Nevertheless, in all of my many years I have never met one who has been able to alter their nature," he submitted as evidence in favor of the theory that this 'pure love' stuff was complete nonsense. "And I have met a fair number of such vampires during that time."

I nodded in acceptance of his words.

At the moment, I was more inclined to agree with Aro's millennia of observation than vague human assumptions. Unlike my pregnancy, incubi and succubi were something Aro had seen and interacted with on a reasonably frequent basis. So I trusted his assessments of their potential to be righted a lot more than some wishful, human theories.

 _Edward can't be fixed._ I realized with a strange combination of resignation and hope. Resignation, because it was still an awful thing to come to terms with that I had unwittingly married a romantically deficient monster. But hope, because the fact that Edward would probably never be capable of loving me as I deserved was the perfect justification to move on and maybe try to find someone who did.

Maybe someone like the beautiful, caring, black-haired vampire standing beside me in front of the tall glass windows.

Yes, there were a thousand things that I knew about him _right now_ that might cause a relationship between us to fail. And yes, I had promised myself to give Jacob a shot before anyone else, in the event that Edward and I were not meant to be. And yes, I still wore the enormous diamond ring Edward had given me—the ring that was starting to feel like a shackle more than anything.

But in that very moment, as I stood in the rays of the morning sun, with my hands in Aro's, and his eyes on mine, I came to a very important conclusion.

I wanted to give "us" a shot.

Even though I'd only known him for two days, during that time Aro had been so considerate of my feelings, so invested in my care, so enamored with my little baby boy, and most of all—so single-mindedly in pursuit of whatever would bring me the greatest measure of happiness—that I was already desperate to learn more about him. And despite the fact that he already knew me very well, I wanted to give him a chance. So that maybe, in some small way, I could make him happy the way that he made me happy.

And that's what a relationship was, wasn't it?

Just as I was about to relay this momentous information to Aro, however, the moment was ruined with the sudden interjection of a strange buzzing sound. It sounded like a bumblebee, only ten times angrier.

Bzzzzzzt! Bzzzzzt! Bzzzzzt!

It took me a moment to realize that it was the sound of a cell phone vibrating.

Once I realized this though, I immediately stepped back from Aro and started fishing through my pants pockets, to retrieve the incriminating device. But as my clumsy hands fumbled around, frantically searching every possible storage location on my person, so I could shut the damn thing off, I discovered, to my dismay, that all of my pockets were empty. My cell phone was nowhere to be found.

 _That's right. I left my cell phone back at Charlie's because I didn't want any distractions on my honeymoon,_ I remembered, settling my hands limply at my sides. _And we couldn't retrieve it now because that would arouse too much suspicion._

So it wasn't my phone that was vibrating.

And yet the sound was much too loud, and the vibrations too close to my body, for the phone to belong to anyone else who might have left it behind. If it belonged to one of the Cullens it would be sitting on one of the kitchen countertops. Or be up in one of their rooms. But all senses indicated that it was _right next_ to me. And the only person next to me was…

…Aro.

 _But it couldn't be Aro's cell phone, could it?_ I pondered, staring at the carpet in befuddlement.

Aside from the fact that I still wasn't used to the idea of the three-thousand-year old man operating such a modern device, I saw no reason why anyone should be trying to contact him right now. Based on his earlier, panicked response when we had called, I got the sense that he only shared his number with a tiny handful of people—probably most of them being the more tech-savvy members of the Volturi.

And Carlisle.

 _Wait_ … _Was Carlisle calling to let us know that he'd found something out about my strange new condition?_ I wondered with sudden apprehension. It was the only reason I knew of that made any sense. At least, at the moment.

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzt! Bzzzzzzzzzzzt! Bzzz—

Suddenly the vibrating stopped.

I looked up from the ground to see Aro holding a small black rectangle up to his ear—a rectangle I was surprised to recognize as the latest iPhone. There was a short pause before he began talking to whoever was on the other side.

"Hello?" he began nervously, in the same slightly panicked tone he'd used when we'd called him a couple of days ago.

 _So he really was like that was like that with everyone,_ I observed.

At the time, I really didn't pause to think about why that might be the case—why Aro might be so on edge with every phone call he had received lately. It was definitely suspicious. But in that particular moment, I was much too consumed with anxiety about what the person on the other end might say to him. I wasn't even sure whether I _wanted_ it to be Carlisle, since anything the doctor had to say probably wasn't good.

Aro paused for a minute as he listened to the reply.

Then, utterly without warning he started rambling something irate in Italian into the phone. I couldn't make out a single word he was saying—I didn't know the language, and he was talking much too fast. But he sounded absolutely furious. Almost as furious as he'd sounded when he thought that Edward had killed me on our honeymoon.

The kind of furious that I was worried might manifest itself as violence.

So I recoiled from his side as he continued with his vicious tirade.

Though thankfully, nothing happened.

After a tense few minutes, Aro shouted some sort of goodbye into the speaker and promptly pressed the button to hang up. He took an unnecessary deep breath to soothe his frazzled nerves, and slipped the device back into one of his many trench coat pockets before he turned to look sheepishly at me.

"Who was that?" I asked, slowly approaching him again.

"Telemarketers," he lied without missing a beat.

For some reason, I knew it wasn't true. Aro wasn't the sort of person to get _that_ upset with the mere annoyance of human advertisers. If telemarketers had really called Aro, I was pretty certain that he would have simply hung up. He had much more pressing matters to deal with than making some poor, call-center workers' lives miserable.

But without any suitable theories as to who it could have been instead, I decided, for now, to accept the lie. Perhaps I would confront him over it later, when I had mulled over the possibilities and come up with a suitable hypothesis. However, right now, I was more interested in getting back to telling Aro what I had almost revealed to him before.

That is, that even though I hadn't figured out all the technicalities yet, I was interested in going on at least one date with him.

I had my mouth open, ready to tell him this, when suddenly Aro's phone buzzed again. Frustrated by the improbable odds, I snapped my lips audibly shut. I waited with crossed arms and an irritatedly tapping foot while Aro answered the phone again, and began talking in Italian to whoever was on the other side.

This time, I was relieved to note, however, his voice was much softer. Instead of being sharp and deadly, it was rich and fluid like melted chocolate. And his lilting, foreign words were almost like a lullaby to my exasperated ears.

After a few minutes of serenading me with his side of the conversation, Aro politely hung up and turned back to me once again.

I felt compelled to ask him the same question this time, even though I wasn't sure I would obtain a straight answer. "Who was that, this time?"

"That was Renata," Aro revealed with surprising candor. "She wants us to come pick her up at the airport."


	12. Chapter 12: Protection

**AN: We get to meet Renata! Yay!**

* * *

 _With regard to healing the sick..._

 _I will take care that they suffer no hurt or damage._

 _(Original Version of the Hippocratic Oath)_

…

CHAPTER 12: PROTECTION

"Wait, Renata is at the airport?" I asked Aro, unwilling to believe my ears.

I knew that Aro had said over the phone that she would be arriving today. But so much had happened in the last twenty-four hours. I had completely forgotten that she was coming.

And even now when I recalled that she was, I had absolutely no clue how to feel about that fact. Renata seemed like a reasonably tender figure when I saw her during my brief visit in Volterra. But she hadn't spoken a word besides "Master." So in actuality, aside from knowing she was loyal to Aro, I had no idea what her personality was like.

Her devotion to Aro was definitely comforting. But nonetheless, I still worried about her personal opinions. Aro had accepted the fact that I was apparently part human, and part vampire now with remarkable grace. However, there was no telling if Renata would see me the same way.

 _Would she see the fact that I wasn't yet a full vampire, but drank blood and had bizarre patches of immortal skin, to be a disgusting aberration of nature?_ I thought frightfully. _Would she think that the hybrid I carried was a threat and act on her own? Or would she agree with Aro's assessment that, although unprecedented, the only danger my child posed was to my own well-being?_

It terrified me all over again that I had no way of knowing. And in that instant, I was desperately grateful that Aro hadn't decided to bring any other guard members along for a very different reason than before. Keeping up with one unfamiliar vampire's motivations in regards to my son had been stressful enough already. Keeping up with two, I could already tell, would be insane—even when I had a reasonable assurance that the second deferred to the first.

And I wasn't sure I could handle trying to follow any more than that.

Things would quickly get too complex for me to figure out. Especially since I got the feeling that the driving politics among the Volturi guard were multi-faceted and had been built over centuries—and therefore not something that even the wisest of psychologists could tease out immediately.

Not to mention that, of course, I wasn't the wisest of psychologists. In fact, I tended to be extremely obtuse when it came to figuring out other's motivations. I mean, Aro had been forced to spell it out for me multiple times before I finally understood his one, very simple, motive. And he'd left plenty of painfully obvious hints before that.

So nope, I wasn't equipped for this.

But the universe didn't seem to care, for Aro's answer to my question was in the affirmative.

"And she needs us to come and get her?" This dumbfounded me most of all. _Couldn't she just drive here, like Aro had?_

Aro seemed to anticipate my silent question. "Renata is not comfortable with operating vehicles," he explained. There was a faraway look in his eyes and faint, humored smile on his lips as if he were recalling some hilarious memory of Renata attempting, and horribly failing, at driving.

 _Oh. I guess I also forgot how ancient the Volturi were,_ I realized all of sudden. _And how Aro's ease with modern contraptions, including cars, is unusual._

"And while she certainly _could_ make it here on foot," Aro listed as a potential possibility, "it would take longer."

 _He's right. Even though vampires can run extremely fast…. They can drive even faster._

"Should we call Carlisle?" I asked.

I figured it wouldn't be proper for the two of us to just disappear off to Seattle without at least letting the doctor know of our plans. Given how terrified Carlisle had been when he had left for the hospital, that would be very inconsiderate. If he were to return home to an empty house, he would probably assume the worst. And there was no reason to give him a metaphorical heart-attack.

Plus, there was a remarkably high chance that the Cullen patriarch would want to tag along. Given his history with the Volturi coven, there was a chance he knew Renata personally. While not impossible, I doubted they were very close. But even a little familiarity between the two vampires could only work in my favor. She'd likely be more at ease around someone she knew, and more likely to trust our decision to keep my son, in spite of obvious danger.

And of course, Carlisle wouldn't want Aro and I to spend two or more hours alone in a car. _Things_ might happen.

I rolled my eyes at the notion. Aro and I were hardly the sort of people who would randomly get it on in a car.

Especially at this premature of a stage in our relationship.

But just as I finished that ocular motion, we heard the sound of the garage door opening. And the hum of Carlisle's Aston Martin making its way up towards the house.

Aro and I both looked directly at one another, before eyeing the door that led into the garage.

"Let's go."

…

Carlisle hadn't been enthused that we had to leave as soon as he got home, but upon Aro's insistence that we not leave Renata waiting for too long, he had obliged to accompany us to the airport very quickly. Initially, Aro had allotted his friend ten minutes to get everything in order, since his request was so late-notice. However, Carlisle only took a few seconds to put away his notes, and set the transparent case of petri dishes down in his office, before he got back in the car.

As Aro and I made to pile in after him, Carlisle very firmly stated that I was to sit in the passenger seat beside him, and that Aro was to sit in the back, alone. The doctor insisted that this was because once Renata joined us, she would likely want to sit in the back beside her master. But I sensed there was an ulterior motive behind Carlisle's placement too.

It probably had something to do with the fact that Carlisle seemed strangely convinced that Aro, if allowed in my proximity for too long, might do something uncouth with me.

I rolled my eyes again. We weren't horny teenagers.

But, because it would be pointless to argue with him, Aro and I dutifully complied with the doctor's orders. And with another rev of Carlisle's vehicle's beautiful engine, we sped off, at the Cullens' usual illegal speed, toward the airport.

Along the way, we updated the doctor on our discovery. The discovery that there was evidently some venom left in my system from my incident with James. And that it appeared to be spreading throughout my body very slowly.

We weren't very far into our explanation when Carlisle cut in. As it so happened, that was what he had rushed to the hospital to confirm. He'd taken some skin cell samples from both of my arms earlier in the week, to deduce if my pregnancy was having any effect on my personal DNA. And the machines at the hospital had verified that this was a process that had started from the very beginning. That, at least as far back as those samples, the traces of venom left in my wrist had already been on the move, transforming me into an immortal in their wake.

We simply hadn't noticed it sooner because the signs had taken a while to manifest.

When pressed, Carlisle wasn't sure exactly what had triggered the spread of the previously dormant venom. He concurred with Aro's theory that, since a similar localization of vampire flesh was located near my amniotic sac, it probably had to do with chemicals produced by my pregnancy. But he and Aro both were thoroughly puzzled by its exceptionally lethargic pace (a typical transformation only took two or three days, not weeks). And the fact that the venom wasn't causing me any pain.

In spite of the terrifying uncertainty that my scenario wrought upon us, Carlisle did express some excitement about my slow-motion transformation. It gave us the opportunity to study in exactly which order venom altered the human body, something which had never been done before. And evidently it was a thrilling prospect for him to be part of a "scientific breakthrough".

Unfortunately, as fun as this was for Carlisle, there were some definite negatives to my predicament as well. While it did afford us more time, the unprecedented nature of it meant that we had no idea what to expect. Based on my thirst for blood and only blood, Carlisle was fairly certain that the digestive system was the first thing James' venom changed. But there was no telling which area of my body the venom might target next. And thus, even with our extra time, we could hardly make any preparations in the horrifying scenario that it negatively impacted my child.

For all we knew, my womb could be the very next thing the venom wanted to change, or the penultimate.

The only thing we knew for certain was that the heart would be last.

It had to beat until the very end, after all.

After an hour or so of Aro and Carlisle debating the most likely path James' venom might take through my body, the doctor expressed doubt that the venom would even pose a problem for my child. He suggested that it was possible that venom might not have the same effect on the infant as it would on me. It didn't even have the same effect on Jacob and the other werewolves, and they were almost just as human as I was. So there was no telling how my baby, a hybrid creature, who was clearly growing in spite of its frozen, vampire DNA, might react.

My son _might_ be able to survive a pregnancy inside of a fully-fledged vampire, completely intact.

Or he could wind up stuck inside me for eternity.

There really was no way to be sure.

In either case, both Carlisle and Aro had reaffirmed that they would do everything in their power to ensure that both my son and I were okay. But for the moment, both men remained cautiously optimistic. While I was uncomfortable with the idea of venom being anywhere near my belly, the two vampires in the car with me pointed out some potential perks. It would probably prevent a lot of further injuries, for one. Vampire flesh didn't bruise, after all.

And if worst came to worst and my child _did_ get frozen in there, Carlisle reminded me that my baby was almost developed enough to remove as it was. Only handful of days were left until the end of the third-trimester, if my son maintained the same accelerated growth rate. And both Aro and Carlisle possessed teeth that were strong enough to tear through the hardest skin. So they were both reasonably certain that they could get him out, whether I was a completely turned vampire by that point or not.

In fact, from their perspective, the only thing being a vampire in that instance would do would be to increase my chances of survival. A traumatic C-section could kill a human easily. But as a vampire, unless I was lit on fire afterwards, I could be ripped apart in all sorts of ways and still survive.

I nervously gnawed on my lower lip as I processed their words. I could see their point. I would be a lot less fragile as a vampire. But the fear of accidentally imprisoning my precious baby inside my own body forever was still too great—the images of his cherubic face, green eyes wide in horror, too fresh in my mind—for me to share their tentatively rosy outlook.

For now, I remained cautiously pessimistic instead.

…

When we got to the airport, it wasn't hard to find Renata. Among all the tan-faced humans in jeans and button-up shirts, Renata's ashen complexion and long black cloak stuck out like a sore thumb. I got the sense from her frantic, lost gaze and the way she nervously fiddled with the sleeves of her equally dark dress, that she didn't get out in the human world much, at least, not without someone else's supervision. So I didn't blame her for attracting odd stares.

But as soon as Aro spotted her and her outfit, which was almost the cartoon stereotype of a vampire, he looked like he wanted to smack his forehead in embarrassment.

 _So much for secrecy._

As the three of us approached, I guessed that she was only a little taller than Alice—though that estimate was made more difficult by the fact that Alice almost always wore gargantuan heels. But she had a similar lithe frame, like a miniature ballerina. Her hair was the same inky shade of black too. Though instead of being short and spiky it cascaded in thick waves down to the middle of her chest.

She wore the hood of her cape up—another highly conspicuous decision. But even beneath that I could see her familiar round face and her warm red eyes. Eyes which glowed with admiration as soon as they took in the image of Aro.

"Master," she breathed, thrilled to see him.

"Renata my dear, I am delighted that you could make it!" Aro exclaimed jubilantly as he stopped only a foot in front of her.

Carlisle and I stopped several yards behind so as to not crowd the pair.

"Did you have a good trip?" Aro courteously asked.

Renata looked slightly nervous for a moment as she stood ramrod still beside the baggage carousel, like her true feelings might be unacceptable to her master.

Eventually, though, she seemed to work up the courage to speak her mind, for her timid gaze transformed into a determined stare. "Master, please do not run off like that again. It is… _dangerous_."

An astonished gasp issued from my mouth. The candor of the petite vampire's remarks to her master, in spite of the supreme authority he held over her, shocked me.

Aro too looked a little taken aback at his subordinate's reply. But Renata's words had been spoken with enough genuine concern for his well-being that he didn't seem to be terribly upset. A small frown marred his elegant face for a few moments before it melted into the tiniest of smiles.

"I appreciate your concern, my dear. But I can assure you that I was perfectly safe," Aro soothed, his hands making a placating gesture.

 _I'm not sure running off to Seattle completely without protection qualifies as "safe",_ I thought. _Not with how many enemies the Volturi have…_

Renata's panicked face clearly communicated that she also disagreed with Aro's assessment. "But Master—" she started to protest.

Aro raised a single palm to silence her. Immediately Renata's mouth snapped obediently shut.

Apparently, even if Renata's fears were totally valid, Aro wasn't interested in arguing over it. Especially not here, where nosy humans might overhear something incriminating. Our unlikely group was already attracting too many curious eyes for Aro's comfort.

"Where is the woman you gave the diamond to?" Renata asked Aro in a low, but unexpectedly cold voice. "The pregnant one?" she added for clarification.

Carlisle stiffened as he registered the petite vampire's chilly tone.

But as Renata's words reached my ears, I wasn't as afraid of the non-gentle way they had been spoken as perhaps I should have been. Instead I wanted to smack my head in self-frustration. I had completely forgotten to thank Aro for his extravagant gift.

Granted, I'd been dealing with a lost more pressing matters than jewelry—like starvation. But I still felt mortified that I'd allowed my manners to lapse in front of such an important person. Knowing what I now knew, I was reasonably certain Aro would graciously forgive my temporary absentmindedness. But the knowledge that I'd been so ungrateful when I'd received what was most likely a priceless ancient treasure, made me feel sick.

While Carlisle nervously clutched the collar of his pale blue shirt, Aro himself didn't even blink at the shift in Renata's voice. He merely gestured towards where I stood, a bright smile pulling at his alabaster cheeks. "Isabella is right over there."

Renata's eyes promptly followed the arc of her master's hand, and her feet followed not long after. While she rounded the corner of the baggage carousel to get a better view, I clutched my stomach protectively, still not assured that she wasn't a threat.

Carlisle graciously offered me his hand to grasp for comfort.

As soon as the little vampire put me directly in her line of sight, she abruptly froze and began to wordlessly examine me. Despite Aro's apparent lack of concern, her extremely intense gaze, and suddenly statuesque form put both Carlisle and I on edge.

I wriggled in discomfort as her ruby eyes methodically looked me up and down. Her lengthy analysis of my form felt especially unnerving because she spent an unhealthily long time staring at my bulging abdomen. I couldn't tell whether she couldn't look away because she was awed or appalled. Her impassive face betrayed nothing.

I was just about to say something—to express my discomfort—when at last her emotionless gaze broke from my belly. It switched to settle back on her master, who was gradually approaching us from her left.

"The telepathic incubus did this?" Renata whispered toward Aro in an even icier tone.

Automatically, Carlisle bristled in anger at that word.

It jarred me too that Renata refused to use Edward's name, and had instead insisted on using what I surmised was the most derogatory epithet she could still use in polite company. But she was essentially right, so Aro and I nodded in accompaniment.

Renata, on the other hand, had a very different reaction to my affirmative nod. At once, her unemotional face warped into one of pitying disgust. Apparently the idea of being impregnated by Edward was something she regarded as a devastating, if a bit icky, tragedy. Like losing an arm in a meat grinder.

"My condolences," Renata offered to me in a considerably warmer tone. Her hands were clasped sorrowfully in front of her chest—a gesture I figured she'd unwittingly picked up from Aro. And her hooded head was ever so slightly bowed.

Upon hearing this, Aro floated directly to Renata's side and made a disapproving clicking sound with his tongue. "Ah my dear Renata there's no need to be rude," he lectured gently, placing a chiding hand on her diminutive, cape-bearing shoulder.

Renata looked up at her master in total confusion. She evidently didn't think she'd been rude.

And neither did I.

But she demurely apologized anyway. And gave Aro a significantly deeper bow than the one she'd supplied to me. It was almost a kotow for how far she bent over. And while I understood her reasoning for believing such a drastic gesture of humility was necessary, (Aro's position as her master, probably mandated that sort of etiquette in Volterra) the action garnered a lot of weird looks from nearby humans as they approached our group to collect their luggage.

Weird looks, that brought a panicky expression to Aro's face.

"No it is quite alright." Aro snaked a slender hand beneath Renata's little round chin. He tenderly tilted her head up to look him in the eyes to assure her that he wasn't upset with her in the slightest. And to hopefully to decrease the number of humans openly staring at us.

"I suppose the circumstances which brought us here are… rather regrettable…" Aro admitted with a small frown. Though he reigned in the true depth of his sorrow at those circumstances (my marriage to Edward and our subsequent honeymoon), for Carlisle's sake.

"But the result is most fortunate, would you not agree?" Aro merrily asked the woman before him, sounding for all the world like he believed she ought to be just as ecstatic about it as him.

The skepticism in Renata's body-language however, made it evident that she didn't agree. The petite woman looked pointedly at my stomach again with obvious bewilderment etching her features. Then she looked back at her master with the same expression. Then back at my stomach. Then back at her master. Then back at my stomach. Then back at her master.

"A hybrid infant?" Renata uncertainly probed at last. Her voice still at a whisper so that none of the humans watching could hear it.

She didn't seem angry, grossed-out or sad—which was definitely a good sign. But neither did she seem particularly impressed. Certainly not overjoyed, like Aro had expected.

Aro's thin lips twisted into a dissatisfied and perplexed frown. He seemed uncertain as to how to respond to her lack of enthusiasm. "…Yes..." he began in a tentative tone. Though it almost instantly brightened and gained a considerable amount of confidence. "Isn't that wonderful?" he asked.

I felt jolted where I stood as I remembered Aro asking essentially that same question to Marcus in Volterra when he'd witnessed something the other ancient had shown him—something about me. Another odd sense of déjà vu settled over me as I watched Renata's face display the same bored and apathetic expression Marcus's face had held when he'd been asked that. Neither of them—not Marcus then, and not Renata now—looked like _wonderful_ would have been their first choice of words.

But Renata was a little more acquiescing. While Marcus hadn't moved, Renata shrugged. "Wonderful," she acknowledged flatly.

An odd silence settled over the four of us after Renata's unenthusiastic response. I wondered what made her so reluctant to agree with her master's lofty estimation of my child. _Did she possess any actual reservations about my baby, aside from the identity of the father? Or was she simply reserving judgment until she knew more?_

As the silence dragged on, I worried that Aro might be troubled by Renata's uninterested attitude. Troubled enough to perhaps do more than simply try to verbally persuade her of the merits of my child, despite our very public location. The ambient tension in his pose certainly suggested as much.

A couple of people who'd recently wandered up to the carousel to wait for their luggage exchanged a series of uncomfortable glances as they too waited for something to happen. Probably also fearing some sort of chastisement or punishment was in order.

And Carlisle looked expectantly at Aro, as though urging his ancient friend to say something to break the accumulating tension before it became too awkward.

But Aro didn't need to say anything. After looking impassively at the tiled floor for a few more seconds, like she was at a complete loss as to what else to do, Renata's little head tipped upwards and she dutifully inquired. "Your orders, Master?"

Aro apparently found his subordinate's blunt obedience hilarious for he laughed, a high-pitched giggling affair.

"See? I told you she is quite the handful," he remarked humorously, facing Carlisle as he spoke. "Her skills as a bodyguard are invaluable," he offered as a counterpoint of praise. "Nonetheless, she can hardly function without my guidance," he finished, gesturing to her entirely out-of-place attire.

Abashment washed over Renata's pale features upon hearing Aro's remarks. Judging by the look on her face, I guessed that had she been human her cheeks would have been completely red. And she stared guiltily at her feet, like Aro's words were painfully accurate. Like she felt utterly helpless without being constantly told what to do.

Upon seeing her acute embarrassment Aro's face softened immediately, the sharp hilarity in his posture being quickly replaced with gentle empathy.

I got the impression he hadn't meant to humiliate her with his words, but had only been trying to justify what he'd said over the phone to us previously. The way he delicately reached out to stroke the side of her face, in an apologetic gesture, seemed to suggest as much.

And his subsequent fulfilling of her desire to be given a command only amplified that impression. After one last brief glance towards the baggage carousel, where a small gathering of people were still gawking at us, he made an ushering motion toward the airport parking lot where Carlisle's vehicle was resting.

"Why don't you accompany me back to the Cullen residence, then?" he invited graciously.

Renata nodded eagerly and quickly followed the three of us back to Carlisle's car.

…

When we got back to the house that evening, Aro surprised us with the next order he gave to his subordinate. We had only just barely settled in, me relaxing in my usual spot on one of the living room couches, Carlisle updating Emmett and Rosalie on recent developments, and Esme offering to lend Renata some things from her closet since the petite Volturi member had neglected to bring anything besides what she had on her person, when Aro made the announcement.

"Why don't you keep Isabella and the others company?" Aro submitted in his featheriest voice. "Carlisle and I have some things to discuss outside," he informed Renata before giving me a piercing look. "Alone."

I swallowed nervously as I recognized that my overhearing of their conversation last night was what prompted him to say that last bit. And what made Aro think it was necessary to move their next conversation out of doors. I found some tiny measure of solace in the fact that Aro didn't appear to be livid with me for my earlier intrusion. His face remained perfectly friendly as he'd made that final stipulation. But I still felt chastised, all the same.

Despite the fact that Aro hadn't specified what he wanted to talk about, Carlisle didn't seem to be upset by the request, either. In fact, he accepted Aro's suggestion with remarkable grace, giving his friend a small smile and a tiny nod.

I was glad to see that the idea of having another conversation with the tri-millenial vampire didn't frighten or offend Carlisle in the slightest. That the two men were obviously both extremely interested in coming to some kind of amicable resolution was very heartening, since I cared about them both.

But not everyone in the room was as pleased with this development as I.

As Aro began floating back toward the open front door to make his way outside, and motioned with a beckoning finger for Carlisle to follow him, Renata's eyes widened, alight with fear and desperation. With only a second's hesitation, her tiny hands flew up to snatch the side of Aro's ankle-length trench coat. And once she'd caught it, she gave it an imploring tug, pleading silently with him to stay.

While she refrained from saying anything, it was obvious to me as she pulled at her master's clothes that the idea of Aro leaving her terrified her. Her wide eyes seemed to say that the short absence they'd had from one another when Aro had come alone to Seattle had been unbearable enough. And she didn't want to let him out of her sight again.

Initially I dismissed her feelings as simple paranoia. Unless provoked, Carlisle wouldn't hurt a fly.

And although Aro smiled knowingly, like he wholly understood her compunctions about him being without a bodyguard, he seemed to agree that her fears were misplaced.

"I will be perfectly safe with him, my dear," Aro confidently assured her, gently removing her hands from his person. "Carlisle is like a brother to me."

But these words, meant to convince Renata that Carlisle was harmless, seemed to have the opposite effect. Her ashen face somehow grew even whiter as Aro gradually pressed her hands down at her sides. And her shoulders tensed in horror.

As I witnessed this frightening change, I started to give her fears a lot more weight and wonder at their source. And as her tiny frame began trembling violently in alarm, and her eyes took on a slightly glazed look, as though recalling something ghastly, my curiosity only increased.

 _Did something happen to her?_ I thought frightfully. _Did someone she'd once trusted like a brother betray her?_

I wasn't given much time to think about this, however, for just as suddenly as the shaking had come over Renata, it disappeared. After giving Carlisle a fleeting, but still intense, cautionary glare, Renata took a deep breath. Then she shook away the bad memories until every last vestige of them was gone from her mind.

Although her face still betrayed her extreme reluctance, as soon as she'd composed herself, Renata bowed her head in mute acceptance of Aro's command. Then she started drifting over to the square of couches surrounding the glass coffee table in the center of the room.

As she floated towards me, her eyes remained fixed on the pair of vampires heading outside—never breaking from them for a moment. Until they stepped beyond the house's threshold. And shut the wooden door solidly behind them.

Moments before Aro slipped out of sight, he'd fastened his eyes on me and held a single finger to his lips as if to suggest that I keep secret what I'd learned last night. It had happened so quickly I almost thought I'd imagined it—but I'd seen it.

I wasn't exactly sure why he didn't want me to let Esme, Emmett and Rosalie know what I knew. But I was growing quite fond of the ancient vampire as of late, so I committed to respect his wishes.

And thankfully no one else seemed to notice the exchange,. Or at least they did not deign to comment. So what little I knew about Edward being an incubus, and about Aro's affections for me, remained between us.

For a few minutes the five of us—Esme, Rosalie, Emmett, Renata and myself—watched Carlisle and Aro through the house's tall glass windows. The pair of men moved in and out of our sight for a while as they walked around the side of the building. They disappeared from view when they passed solid walls, and appeared again as they moved in front of the house's many, floor-to-ceiling windows.

We all kept our eyes trained on them as long as we could while they made their way toward the expansive forest in the back. But after several minutes they vanished completely into lush, green vegetation.

And we were left to our own devices.

…

In Carlisle and Aro's absence, the remaining three members of the Cullen family had decided to interview Renata; to learn all they could about how she met Aro, her true loyalties, and her opinion of my growing child.

It had seemed like a good idea to me at first. It would be best not to trust her blindly.

But what had started as a series of relatively innocuous questions, which Renata had been quite willing to answer, quickly devolved into a Spanish-Inquisition-style interrogation. An interrogation where the questioners spat nasty accusations. And refused to listen to any denials.

It was a horrifying transformation to watch. Especially as Renata started to cower under their baleful words.

But the worst part of it was that it was I, rather than Carlisle's gentle wife, who remained cordial and collected. Rosalie's and Emmett's vicious tones, I'd expected, given their misgivings about those who didn't share their diet. But I was rather astonished to note that even Esme had chipped in now and then with an icy remark.

After the initial shock wore off, I'd tried to tell the three of them to lay off Renata a bit, since their probing, and often condemning inquiries were obviously making the petite bodyguard uncomfortable. As she was, the poor little vampire looked torn between following Aro's orders to "keep us company" and retreating to another room where she could find solace and privacy.

But they didn't listen to me.

I could understand their worry—especially Rosalie's, that Renata might act on her own and decide to terminate my pregnancy (and my life) herself. But it was just as obvious in my mind that all Renata wanted was to please Aro.

Although I could tell by the dubious way she looked at my ballooning stomach now and then that she had her doubts, she seemed to feel vastly unqualified to make any important decisions (or really, many decisions at all) without outside guidance. And she'd said quite forcefully to the others, "I will not act against Master's wishes," several times.

And no matter how hard the trio pressed, her answer remained the same.

Realizing that she was just going to repeat that one mantra over and over, no matter how many different ways they asked whether she intended to hurt me, the three Cullens surrounding me eventually decided to switch tactics. At once, instead of questioning Renata's motives, they began to bombard her with extremely personal questions. Questions regarding things like her powers, her hobbies, and even her sexual history.

When that delicate topic came up, she and I were both equally appalled. "That is none of your business," we answered in unison.

After that there was only a brief, remorseful silence before Emmett decided to criticize her instead for being alone. To insinuate that she was an awful protector for not accompanying Aro in the first place, and not bringing a larger contingent with her now.

I wasn't sure why this still bothered Emmett. I thought we'd already explained that Aro only bringing one guard worked in our favor.

But the words he used evidently hit their mark. For when Renata heard them, she appeared visibly wounded by the implication that she'd failed her one job, and bowed her head deeply in shame.

I was in the midst of passionately chastising Emmett for deliberately stoking the girls' insecurities, when Aro and Carlisle finally returned to the Cullen home. Had I been paying attention I might have thought it strange that their private conversation in the woods had taken so long. They'd left early in the evening and had returned in late at night. It was certainly suspicious.

Though, all of us were so busy arguing that we didn't even notice the simple fact that they were back until they suddenly came into the room.

"Emmett! She's our guest!" I shrieked, scandalized by the muscular vampire's insensitive allegations. "And besides, she was just following orders!"

 _She already proved that she let Aro travel alone to Seattle with great reluctance. And, as far as I can tell, no one was harmed. What more does Emmett want?_

"She did the right thing," I insisted passionately in Renata's defense just as Aro and Carlisle padded back into the living room.

Esme was the first to see them. "You've returned," she observed, obvious anxiety etching her normally soft features.

"It would seem we are interrupting something…" Aro noted, pausing warily on the carpet to survey the scene.

His concerned gaze swept quickly over the figures before him, trying to ascertain what the matter was. His eyes flickered over myself and the Cullens, then froze as they fell upon the hunched form of his subordinate, who was sitting slumped beside me on the couch, her head dipped almost into her lap in humiliation.

The lower left corner of Aro's lips curled in distaste, evidently not pleased that we'd distressed his underling.

"Is there a problem?" Aro asked the cloaked woman. A threat lingered on the edge of his tongue if she were to answer in the affirmative. And his fists clenched ever so slightly at his sides.

The Cullens tensed and immediately looked fearfully apologetic as they realized that they might receive a large helping of Aro's rage for their interrogation of his guard.

But thankfully for their sakes, Renata was far more gracious to them than they'd been to her.

"No, Master," she denied with a resolute shake of her head. Though she didn't meet his eyes and her voice came out hushed and saturated with emotion.

I felt bad for her. She was trapped in an unfamiliar territory and had been treated like a criminal since her arrival, despite having done nothing wrong, and in fact being present because she wanted to help. And yet she didn't feel like it was her place to deride the people who had been unbelievably rude to her.

Probably because of some weird vampire hierarchy politics I didn't completely understand.

But because I pitied her, I decided to tell the truth.

"That's not…" I started, then paused to find the best way to put this. "I mean… they…" I gestured towards the opposite couch, where Emmett and Rosalie sat. "They said some pretty nasty things to her."

Immediately, Rosalie's gorgeous face contorted with rage. "Hey! Whose side are you on?" she snapped. "I'm just trying to keep you safe!"

"So is Renata," I pointed out, since technically that was her job.

Rosalie snarled and looked unforgivingly towards Renata's red eyes. "Are you saying you'd rather have _her_ kind..." She seemed to think the fact that Renata hunted humans automatically disqualified her from any having any redeeming qualities whatsoever. "...one of the Volturi, protect you?"

I blinked in shock. Not that Rosalie was so prejudiced against those who didn't share her choices—I'd expected that. But because I hadn't realized that she still thought she was my appointed bodyguard.

In all honesty I thought we'd already decided that the Volturi had taken that position from her when she'd stormed off yesterday after Aro had defended my dietary choices. But apparently she still believed that the role of protector rightfully belonged to her.

Only God knew why.

So I decided it was high time to disabuse her of this absurd notion. Especially if she was going to continue to be unforgivably mean to everyone who was actually trying to help me, in the name of guarding my baby.

I shouted, "Well if you're going to be like that, maybe I don't want you to keep me safe anymore!"

The volume of my cry caused my baby to wake from his lengthy slumber and tumble about a bit in my womb in fright. It was an odd sensation, but not a painful one. At least not yet.

Rosalie gasped, clearly offended. She reached out to grab me, her perfect porcelain hand stretching over the glass coffee table separating us—maybe thinking that she could shake some sense into me. I wasn't exactly sure.

But I halted her hand's progress across the space with my next words.

My whole body shook with fury before I yelled with all the malice I could muster, "Maybe I'd rather be protected by the Volturi if you're going to be such a _bitch_ about it!"

Which had been a terrible mistake.

For no sooner than I'd given Carlisle a sheepish look for my foul language, the entire room descended into chaos.

Immediately, Rosalie and Emmett rose from their seats in terrifying unison, snarling violent threats towards the petite woman at my side.

Renata defensively held up her hands in warning, silently suggesting that if they came any closer that she would be forced to incapacitate them with her defensive powers. But it wasn't long before she too rose up when she realized they wouldn't listen.

Aro also dashed into the fray when he saw this, standing beside his subordinate in a show of solidarity. And he hissed menacingly at the two who dared to threaten one of his own.

Carlisle and Esme managed to stay separate from the madness, somehow. But as they watched with horrified eyes, everything went to hell.

Curses started to fly left and right between the two pairs. Animalistic growls filled the air. And all four livid vampires rapidly adopted combative stances, ready to rip into one another at any moment.

This all happened in a matter of seconds. And as a result, the ambient stress level in the room skyrocketed very quickly. Which caused my barely awoken son to start kicking me rather aggressively in distress.

I knew my baby boy didn't know what he was doing—that he was just lashing out as a response to all the scary, angry sounds he was hearing—so I didn't hold him in contempt. But his limbs were even stronger now that he'd been fed.

Strong enough that I howled louder and higher than ever before when his powerful feet connected with my stomach's inner walls.

And strong enough that after a few short jabs I heard a terrible snapping sound before the pain blossomed even brighter in one particular location.

I crumpled to the floor in an ungainly heap, howling and clutching that spot in agony.

I went down so fast that the furious vampires took a few seconds to notice. But as soon as Carlisle registered my form, curled up and writhing in evident pain on the ground, his medical instincts immediately kicked in and he leapt into action. In a flash, the doctor was tenderly cradling my head in one hand, and hastily lifting the hem of my shirt to examine the damage with the other.

Almost as quickly, Aro abandoned the argument he'd been having with the other Cullens and dropped to his knees at my side in a black blur. Renata dutifully followed behind him, coming to a halt only inches behind his trenchcoat. She also assumed a kneeling position, not wanting to stand higher than her master.

"Bella!" Aro cried out in desperation as soon as his knees connected with the floor. He clutched one of my pale hands between his and squeezed it urgently. "Bella what happened?!"

But I was too busy screaming at top of my lungs to respond. The pain was so intense. I felt like something inside me had been ripped in half.

Determining that I wasn't going to give them any useful information in my current state, the two male vampires hovering attentively over me decided to rely on their own eyes to survey the situation for themselves. Both men gasped as Carlisle finished rolling up my oversized shirt and saw the dark, reddish purple mark spreading quickly across one side of my stomach.

As soon as it entered his vision, Aro looked like he desperately wanted to ask me again what I thought had transpired to cause this. My sudden injury was freaking him out almost to the point of non-functioning. And it was obvious from the way that he quaked with frenetic anxiety, and his fingers frittered nervously at my side that he was dying to know what had happened so that he might help alleviate my suffering as quickly as possible.

But Carlisle beat me to the punch. "I think she broke a rib," he announced in a grave tone.

…

As it so happened, Carlisle was right. The X-ray he rushed to administer in his private lab revealed that I had, in fact, broken my rib.

Or rather my son had.

But that distinction wasn't important.

What was important was that thankfully the fracture had miraculously missed puncturing any of my internal organs, so there wouldn't be any further complications. Despite my recent increase in injury repair abilities it would still take a while to heal, since it was a broken bone in a difficult area. And Carlisle had insisted on taping me up to assist in that process. But I was reasonably optimistic that it wouldn't be life-threatening.

Sure it hurt like hell to take in a deep breath. And laughing was completely out of the question until it healed completely, something which Carlisle estimated would take at least several days. But I would survive.

I'd survived worse.

So after Carlisle had ran all of the tests he believed were medically necessary, and doped me up on pain medication—giving me the maximum advisable dosage—I didn't have any lingering worries.

However, the remainder of the people in this household did not respond as calmly as I had to this event.

Emmett, being the only one still in the house who had voted against my pregnancy in the first place, was the most vocally upset about it. He insisted that I ought to have listened to Edward, and aborted my baby instead of calling upon the Volturi to help. Because he took my fractured rib as proof that sooner or later the thing inside me was going to kill me, anyway.

Rosalie also was remarkably upset about my injury. And she made that known aloud. But for the opposite reason. She seemed to think that my baby lashing out was my fault somehow and blamed me for not properly taking care of him. I couldn't imagine what she thought I should have done instead. But it was clear that she'd long since crossed the threshold into irrationality.

Esme and Renata exchanged worried glances as they witnessed the mal-effects my child had caused. But since they were both deferring to someone else's opinion on this matter—Esme to mine, and Renata to Aro's—they remained silent.

The way Carlisle's brow was furrowed as he rapidly scrawled new information in the margins of the charts he'd printed out suggested to me that his concerns were mostly medical—but he harbored them, all the same. The fact that he wanted to set up an even more rigorous system of daily tests until the baby was born was also not very encouraging.

And even Aro, who was making the most valiant effort to be supportive of my decision to carry this child to term, looked wary as he avidly clutched the doctor's non-writing hand so that he could comprehend exactly what had happened here.

I wasn't privy to what Aro was seeing in Carlisle's mind. But as his ruby eyes widened in horror, I could tell it wasn't good.

As the six vampires voiced their objections, I tried to reassure them that this wasn't anything to be upset about—that as of yet, I was still alive, and they ought to be comforted by that fact.

But that declaration only made them more apprehensive. Because while I'd survived this time, there was no guarantee that I would survive the next. The truth was, I'd been incredibly lucky in this instance. And there was no telling how long that luck might last.

I could only hope that it would last long enough for my baby to make it.

Maybe I was already good as dead—a fact I could accept with surprising ease if my child survived, given that he was my primary reason for living now.

Or maybe I would live. With how frequently I had brushed with death, and yet not perished, it was a definite possibility.

But the next day it became extremely clear that, even with Aro's assistance, either way would be very difficult.


	13. Chapter 13: Experimentation

**AN: Many thanks to those of you who have stuck with me this far! Your reviews inspire me to keep going.**

* * *

 _Nor shall any man's entreaty_

 _prevail upon me to administer poison to anyone;_

 _neither will I counsel any man to do so._

 _(Original Version of the Hippocratic Oath)_

…

CHAPTER 13: EXPERIMENTATION

The next morning my thirst for blood was back.

When I first awoke, it wasn't very strong—just a little itch in the throat, really. Small enough that I might have mistaken it for something mundane, if I hadn't examined it. But because the irritation didn't go away when I scratched it, and because it was accompanied by a slowly growing empty feeling in my stomach, it didn't take long to determine what it was.

After the itchy sensation had been identified, however, I didn't announce that I was thirsty right away, because I had promised Rosalie the other day that I would give animal blood a shot. And I had to be tactful to ensure that I wasn't distracted from that goal.

I wanted to believe that I was stronger. That I could insist on trying animal blood even in the face of certain temptation. But as much as it pained me, I had to acknowledge the truth. That it wouldn't take very much, really. All Aro or Carlisle would have to do to convince me not to imbibe grizzly bear blood was place a warm cup of O negative under my nose. Even at this premature stage of hunger, the smell alone would completely destroy my resolve.

It was _that_ tantalizing.

So I waited until everyone, but particularly Rosalie, was sitting in the living room to explain my situation. And my plan to alleviate the parched feeling in my throat without the use of human blood.

Predictably, Aro and his subordinate hadn't liked the idea at all. Not only did the pair make nauseated faces that suggested they had some idea of the unpleasant taste of animal blood themselves. But they expressed particular worry for my health, if I were to go through with my plans. Since the rib I'd fractured the night before was still in the process of healing, and they were both convinced that my son would react violently to anything that didn't come from a human, the black-clad duo insisted that my suggested experiment was far too dangerous.

Esme and Emmett didn't say anything. But their shared dubious glances implied they also weren't sure my desire was wise.

And even Carlisle, who'd initially supported my desire to test out his diet, was skeptical of the idea's merits. He was astonishingly quick to remind me of what I'd just learned the day before yesterday—that is, that animal blood was a nutritionally deficient substance. And that as such, it might pose harm both to my infant's health, and to mine as a result of him not being satisfied by it.

"Another kick like the one you received yesterday…" Carlisle intoned ominously.

But despite these very logical facts, and despite my vehement disagreements with Rosalie over the last few days, I wanted to uphold my agreement with the blonde, insofar as it was possible. It was a matter of personal integrity.

And, in light of the fact that apparently very few vampires found animal blood palatable, I was desperate to know before I completely transformed if I might be one of those few. If I could tolerate the Cullen's diet, that would be a huge worry lifted from my shoulders.

And if I wasn't suited to be a vegetarian… well it would be best to know that _now_ , when I still had a variety of options, rather than further down the road where my lifestyle choices were more limited….

When I explained this to Carlisle, however, he firmly shook his head.

"I still do not think it's a good idea, Bella" Carlisle expressed, looking in the direction of my taped up ribs with worried eyes. Though the actual tape itself was obscured from his vision by the baggy T-shirt I was borrowing from Emmett.

Aro swiveled in his seat on the couch beside me to face his younger friend. "I concur, dear Carlisle. However, Isabella does have a point," he conceded, directing a pale hand towards me. "If she cannot bear to drink as you do now," his face darkened, "…there is little chance that fact will change once her transformation is complete."

A heavy lump passed through my throat as I heard this. _Little chance that fact will change? That's not very promising._

Carlisle nodded reluctantly. "That is true," he admitted with sad, faraway eyes. "Yesterday's X-ray proved that her stomach is already completely like one of ours."

I choked as I remembered the scan Carlisle had taken of my abdomen to ascertain if my baby had broken any bones. The images Carlisle's expensive medical equipment had produced were frightening. Not just because of the fractured rib we'd discovered. But also because of the growing, impenetrable, dark shapes we saw in the printouts. Dark shapes which indicated the areas of my skin that were already hardened by venom.

In addition to the patches Aro and I had discovered on the surface of my belly and my right wrist earlier, my stomach, and the rest of my digestive tract were already entirely shrouded from the X-ray's view. The only evidence of their existence, a mysterious silhouette.

It was shocking to learn that the venom had already spread so far internally, when the thin trails of glowing skin that had manifested on the surface were still so tiny. Had Carlisle asked me to make a prediction prior to slapping the photos into my lap, I would have sworn that the "damage" would be a third of what we actually saw. And that fact only solidified my reoccurring fear that my innocent baby son wouldn't be able to beat the ticking clock. To make his way to the delivery table before my weak, venomous body betrayed him.

"Scientifically speaking, her tastes shouldn't change from here on out," Carlisle sadly acknowledged.

I gulped as I realized that even the poster boy for vegetarianism agreed.

However his glum words, rather than being a deterrence, only made me more desperate to drink animal blood today. If it wasn't likely that the outcome would change—if how I felt when I drank the substance now was going to be what I felt when I drank the substance for the rest of eternity—I needed to know as soon as possible. Because in the awful scenario that I _hated_ it…

Well…I wasn't sure what I would do.

Aro and Rosalie had both made it very clear that that feeding off bagged human blood in the long term was not a viable diet. Both because it was difficult to store and preserve, and difficult to obtain without arousing too much suspicion.

And I wasn't keen on the idea of being a murderer.

So, in the awful event that animal blood just wouldn't do, it would be nice to have a period of relative freedom after I came to that conclusion to come up with an alternative. A period of time where I could still rely on Carlisle's stash and not be forced to do something violent or rash because of thirst. And I wasn't likely to be allowed that privilege once I was fully transformed.

"But why must we risk it now?" Carlisle asked Aro, his complexion both fearful and puzzled. "Why can't we wait until the child is delivered and her transformation is complete?" the doctor suggested, a peculiar desperation coloring his tone. "That way, the infant cannot harm her," he contributed logically.

"It gives her time to consider her options," Aro supplied as my reasoning. Which was correct, so I had no issues with him speaking on my behalf.

"She has the luxury of bagged blood now—" he started to explain.

"But that won't always be the case," the doctor finished for his friend in a grave voice. Then Carlisle gave another clipped nod—this time, one of understanding. "I see."

I nodded too, grateful that the two men could empathize with my perspective. Since I had the unique opportunity of having a vampire-like stomach before I actually became a fully-fledged immortal, I figured it would be foolish to not take advantage of that.

Especially when the stakes were so high.

Rosalie snorted at Aro and Carlisle's exchange. "Bella will be fine," she insisted with a flippant toss of one hand. "You guys are scaring her with all your 'worst-case-scenario' talk. Really, animal blood is a little bland, but it's not _that_ bad."

Aro flinched and looked briefly nauseated again for a second, which suggested that his experience with the substance through Carlisle's thoughts was a lot worse than "not-that-bad".

Surprisingly, Renata too made a revolted face, like she heartily disagreed from a more firsthand perspective. But she made no comment, so I couldn't be sure exactly what her relationship with the substance was.

And even Carlisle, who I knew regularly drank animal blood, frowned in disagreement with Rosalie's comment. His downturned lips a silent witness of the fact that he only preferred to dine as he did because it didn't necessitate human death, and the taste was something he put up with to achieve that end.

My heart sank as I witnessed their reactions. This was not encouraging at all.

But I wasn't about to give up just yet.

"Please, Carlisle," I begged him with my best puppy-dog eyes. "I want to give it a shot."

Carlisle slowly turned and looked expectantly towards the dark figure sitting beside me. "Aro?"

Immediately, everyone else in the room pivoted in their seats to look expectantly at him too. I guessed that we were all deferring to his authority on this matter for once, which was odd, given how many times his opinion had been overlooked. I couldn't decide if the change was because he was he eldest, because he was the highest in the vampire hierarchy, because he was enlisted as my protector, because he had an enormous crush on me, or because he currently harbored the most reservations.

Probably a combination of all that.

Aro took a deep, unnecessary breath before he sighed. "If you insist, Bella," he uneasily allowed.

A massive smile overtook my previously apprehensive features. "Thank you."

Aro nodded in mute acquiescence before he turned to look pointedly towards the doctor. "However, we ought to warm up a fresh cup of human blood for her just in case," he contributed as his one stipulation. "If the child does not like it…" he began.

Though it sounded like he meant _when_ rather than _if_.

"…we will want something we know he or she likes on hand as a precaution," Aro finished in all seriousness.

Carlisle gave another short nod. "That sounds reasonable," he remarked, before he promptly stood to go and do just that.

As the doctor rose from the beige cushions of his couch, ready to fetch another bag from his hidden stash to warm up in the microwave, Rosalie started to protest. She was obviously uncomfortable with the idea of preparing human blood for consumption on purpose, and not quite in a state of emergency.

But before she could finish her first angry sentence, Carlisle silenced her with a stern look.

"Bella has agreed to try it. That should be more than enough," the Cullen patriarch snapped with a little more venom than expected.

Esme and Emmett tensed in their seats for half of a second at the unfamiliar sound, before they swiftly relaxed.

I too, jumped a little in my seat, though my reaction was slower.

Heaving a deep sigh, Carlisle slowly started walking back in his fine brown leather shoes. He moved over the soft carpet with a patient grace, until he stood directly beside the aggregate of couches he'd recently left. Then his butterscotch eyes bore fiercely into Rosalie's golden irises.

"Quite frankly, I think drinking animal blood is a very reckless decision at this point," Carlisle said rather pointedly towards the vapidly dressed blonde. "It would be much safer to stick with what we know the infant wants," he offered as the more logical alternative.

Rosalie rolled her eyes. And her painted lips seemed to mouth the words: _you don't know what the baby wants_. But otherwise she remained completely silent and immobile, ready to listen to Carlisle's next words.

"But because Bella is worried about her future as one of us, I'll allow it," Carlisle clarified, to make sure Rosalie knew that his decision was entirely based on my fears about not being suited for vegetarianism, and had absolutely nothing to do with her, rather irrelevant, desires.

A deep frown distorted Rosalie's plump lips as she heard this. But as Carlisle spun on his heels and ambled back towards the kitchen, she decided not to protest.

I could only imagine that she felt a little jilted that her own precious feelings were being totally overlooked here. But had decided to not complain because ultimately, she was still getting what she wanted.

I heaved a sigh of relief as I realized she wasn't going to press the issue any further. I was getting weary of arguing with her.

"However," Carlisle suddenly interjected, pausing on the living room threshold. "At the first sign of discomfort from the baby, I must insist that we stop." He directed this injunction to the entire room, this time. "Bella's life very well may depend on it."

Every dark head in the room bobbed instantly in agreement.

However, Rosalie scoffed, sounding slightly offended. "You make it sound like drinking animal blood is some cruel form of torture."

I bristled at her words. And awaited the doctor's inevitable rebuttal. _Of course it's not_ _ **torture**_ _,_ I thought.

But Carlisle didn't deign to respond to his surrogate daughter's acrid remark. Instead, he merely strode purposefully out of the room towards the hidden safe that contained what remained of his stash of hospital blood. He twirled a golden key around his index finger (I presumed it was the key to his safe), and whistled casually as he walked away, clearly not interested in arguing his point any further.

Rosalie scowled, and folded her arms petulantly as she witnessed this. But thankfully, she decided against any further action until Carlisle returned.

…

When Carlisle came back, all of my immortal caretakers finally agreed to indulge my curiosity. To allow me to try animal blood this time, despite the potential risks. Though, the doctor had insisted that I not undergo this risky experiment by myself.

Instead, it had been mandated that everyone in the household needed to be present and prepared to leap to my rescue in the event that something went terribly wrong. In addition to the warm cup of O positive waiting for me in the kitchen, should this not go as planned, Aro was instructed to keep one hand splayed against my bare stomach at all times, so that we would know instantly how the child felt. And hopefully be able to avoid all unnecessary pain.

Rosalie had initially ridiculed at Carlisle's precautionary demands, thinking them ludicrous and unnecessary. But unfortunately I had to concede that he was being the smartest about this, given how risky my proposed experiment really was. My son was a lot stronger now. Strong enough that even one negative reaction from him could potentially kill me. As Carlisle had insinuated earlier, if he kicked me with the same force as yesterday in the wrong place—say, like my spinal cord—it could all be over.

So I had no complaints about complying with Carlisle's instructions.

Rosalie kept insisting that these measures would be uncomfortable, or inconvenient. But Aro's hand on my stomach wasn't even chilly anymore, now that the venom had spread to cover a good-sized circle of skin surrounding my belly-button. And Carlisle had been careful to keep the cup of human blood prepared for me well out of the range of my sense of smell. So really, it wasn't even that big of a deal.

It was just smart.

Once Rosalie had been convinced that Carlisle's precautions wouldn't impose on me in any way, Emmett volunteered to be the one to fetch my "prey" for me. He wasn't the fastest of the Cullen clan—that was Edward—but he was the strongest, and therefore had the highest chance of bringing me back something substantial enough on such short notice. A fact which seemed to be universally acknowledged, even by our two Volturi guests.

So there was no argument among our group as Emmett zipped out into Cullens' forested backyard, and disappeared behind a thick wall of trees.

At Esme's request, we agreed to await his return in a clearing of trees behind the Cullen home, so she wouldn't have any animal carcasses soiling her immaculate carpet. And so for a half hour or so, while Emmett traversed the wilderness in search of suitable prey, the six of us stood in an uneven line in the grass. Our bodies glowed (mine partially, theirs fully) in the early morning light. And all six pairs of our eyes were trained anxiously on the last spot we'd seen the gentle giant.

As we waited, the dryness in my throat grew from barely more than a tingle, to a persistent, but still more annoying than painful, itch. Something which I was certain Aro would comment on.

But since his alabaster fingers could only intercept the thoughts of my unborn son, and not my own, the increase in intensity went totally unnoticed by him. And I wasn't about to enlighten him about what he was missing, because I feared he might use any excuse, no matter how minute, to call this whole thing off. And I really was desperate to know if I could stand to live the purportedly "unsatisfactory" lifestyle of the Cullens.

In my mind's eye I pictured myself as a fully-fledged immortal, pale and beautiful, but with Aro's crimson eyes. Suddenly, violent streaks of red and white crossed my vision, accompanied by shrill, human screams. A whirlwind of blurry, gory color filled my eyes. And when it finally settled, I saw a viscous pool of scarlet dripping from my grinning teeth.

That last image my brain had conjured of my future self—that traumatizing rendition of a demon reveling in human slaughter—jolted me. It terrified me that I might become the very monster Edward was worried about. That I might choose the evil path even he, an incubus, had sworn off.

Or worse, that I might not be given another choice.

While I struggled to blink away the gruesome images, I surreptitiously crossed the fingers of my left hand behind my back. A silent petition to the universe to make this foolhardy experiment work out.

I was just starting to make some progress—to replace my cruel, red-eyed visage with a warm, yellow-eyed version—when I was rudely shaken out of my thoughts. It was a swift movement that broke my reverie, accompanied by an audible swish and a flash of caramel color.

Esme's head abruptly turned, her hair sailing around her. "Emmett's on his way!" she called over to us from her position a few yards to our right.

Suddenly, all the vampires turned their heads in her direction. They all inclined their ears to the most optimal angle to hear the burly vampire's approach. And squinted intently at the lush, evergreen foliage surrounding us, as though expecting something to burst through it at any moment.

For the first minute, I heard nothing. The venom in my system aside, whatever was approaching was still out of my earshot.

And for the second minute, it was very much the same. Other than the twitter of a few songbirds, the forest was completely silent.

But a few seconds into the third minute, I heard a brief, loud rustling of leaves in the direction everyone was looking, before suddenly an enormous mass of muscle erupted through the trees. It was hard to make out at first, because all I could see was a large and colorful blur racing toward us. But it soon stopped in the middle of the clearing, approximately ten yards in front of me. Then I could tell it was Emmett.

Though there was something different about him then when I last saw him. This time, a large mountain lion carcass was draped over his shoulders.

 _Oh yeah, that's right,_ I remembered as Emmett slid the furry animal off his shoulders and into his hulking arms. _Grizzly bears aren't the only predators around here. And Edward always did claim that of the predators, mountain lions tasted betr…_

After he'd adjusted his grip, Emmett only hesitated a second before threw the limp body unceremoniously into the grass in front of me. To my surprise, and mild horror, the lion rolled like a ragdoll for a few feet after it hit the ground, coming to a stop only a few inches away from my borrowed sneakers.

As its furry head came to rest by my feet, I was immediately grateful that Emmett hadn't thrown the deceased beast any harder. Getting smacked in the face with a flopping lion corpse wasn't exactly how I wanted to start my day.

Emmett dusted off his hands and stepped back from his kill. "Here's lunch!" he exclaimed jubilantly, gesturing towards his spoils.

"Uh, thanks," I mumbled as I looked uneasily down at the dead animal.

A sudden bout of apprehension seized me as I realized I had absolutely no instinctual knowledge of what to do here. I'd kind of expected there to be a pleasant aroma to guide me, as I'd had with the blood Carlisle had cooked up for me before. But right now I couldn't smell anything other than the dewy grass and the light stench of sweaty fur. And as my wary brown eyes flickered over the still corpse, I couldn't find any external injuries, no bleeding areas from which I might lap up blood, so I was confused.

 _How exactly do they expect me to…?_

My teeth clicked together in response to a surge of unpleasant heat in my throat. Which reminded me of what vampires typically did in the situation. But as I slowly drew a finger over my still-very-human teeth, I realized I couldn't exactly do it that way. No doubt, raw lion-flesh was too tough for me to cut into with any efficiency.

"Um…" I began tentatively, lowering my hand away from my mouth. "I don't have vampire teeth yet…" I reminded everyone.

Carlisle blinked for a second before he seemed to realize my predicament. "Oh yes, of course," he said before he fished a shiny, silver scalpel out of his white lab coat pocket.

I wasn't exactly sure why he'd been keeping such a sharp implement in there. But since he'd insisted on taking every precaution with this experiment, I decided it was probably for a good reason. I really didn't want to spend too much time pondering _what_ that good reason was though, if it hadn't been this.

"Emmett, Esme, Rosalie—stand back!" Carlisle announced as walked up to the animal, the small blade gleaming in his hand.

Esme and Emmett immediately complied, their faces both the picture of comprehension. They seemed to understand implicitly that it wouldn't be smart to be too close to an open wound, even if it was just an animal's—rather than a human's. And even if Esme had hunted very recently. They both seemed to believe, as did Carlisle, that there was a considerable enough risk that they might try to steal my meal if they strayed too close.

Rosalie, however, didn't move a muscle. "What about those two?" She pointed an accusing finger toward Aro and Renata.

"Aro needs to stay by Bella so he can monitor the child," Carlisle explained. "And I highly doubt either of them are going to be tempted to interfere…."

Aro and Renata both grimaced at the notion and staunchly shook their heads. I felt the former's hand tense in discomfort over the surface of my womb. And both their expressions made it obvious that they thought their interference was about as likely as someone cutting in line in order to fall into a pile of cow manure.

Their blatant unenthusiasm for my chosen breakfast, rather than serving as a comfort, only served to worry me more.

Rosalie grumbled under her breath at the dark pair's reaction. She said something along the lines of "filthy murderers." But she didn't argue any further with Carlisle. And with one last disparaging look towards my Volturi protectors, she sprinted to the edge of the clearing to stand beside her husband and Esme.

As soon as Rosalie was, what Carlisle deemed a fair distance away, the doctor closed the remaining distance between us and knelt in the grass in front of me in one fluid motion. In one hand, he poised the scalpel at the level of his eyes, ready to slice into the lion's inert jugular vein. And in the other, he suddenly held a Styrofoam cup—I couldn't discern where he'd obtained it from—positioned to catch the blood that was about to flow.

Wherever he'd gotten it from, the cup's existence proved that I was never intended to drink directly from this animal's veins. At least, not while I was still partially human. Before I'd seen the cup, I'd worried that Carlisle expected me to just stick my head in there and lap up the drippings like a feline licking milk from a bowl. I wasn't precisely sure how fully-fledged vampires went about it—I'd never given the technical logistics much thought, before. But I was absolutely certain that I didn't have the skills, nor the guts for something so gruesome now. If I tried, I'd probably just end up with a ton of lion fur in my mouth, and blood all over my clothes.

I cringed in disgust at the thought.

Thank heavens Carlisle was more thoughtful than that.

While I was absorbed in his mental praise, Carlisle suddenly swiped his scalpel through the dead lion's throat in one smooth horizontal motion. A deep gash appeared in the wake of his silver blade. And immediately, thick rivulets of blood poured out from the injury.

The fluid flowed out like a faucet, matting the animal's tawny fur in places. And splashing a few drops in the dewy grass. But I was pleased to note that the vast majority of the substance ended up, as intended, inside the Styrofoam cup.

As the blood rained out, a thick, wet, earthy scent suddenly overwhelmed my senses. Mercifully, it wasn't unpleasant, if a bit chalky.

But the longer the smell persisted in my nostrils, the more confused I became. _It doesn't smell_ _ **gross**_ _but it doesn't exactly smell like delicious food either._ It took me a while to find an apt comparison. _It actually smells a lot like Pepto Bismol,_ I decided after a minute. My face turned pinched with revulsion. _I really hope it doesn't taste like it too._ It would be tolerable, but only just. And the idea of taking my food down like a pill for the rest of my existence wasn't exactly a thrilling prospect.

I was morbidly surprised at how quickly the cup filled.

Carlisle pulled the Styrofoam receptacle back from the animal's injury just seconds before it was doomed to overflow, then promptly secured a plastic lid over the top of it. The stream of blood issuing from the mountain lion's neck continued for a few seconds, rolling onto the dewy grass below, until it slowly petered out. And once the red liquid stopped flowing completely, Carlisle gradually stood and turned to face me.

The doctor produced a thin plastic straw from his left pocket and jabbed it through the hole in the center of the cup's plastic lid. "I apologize that you had to see that," he said sheepishly, before he pushed the beverage in his surprisingly clean hands toward me.

He didn't need to apologize. Surprisingly, I wasn't offended by the scene. I supposed that my partial transition into immortality had completely banished my former queasiness over blood. And at the moment I was too busy marveling at the fact that he'd managed to avoid spotting his skin with even a single drop of blood, in the midst of such a heavily bleeding injury. I chalked it up to centuries of medical experience.

There was a moment of hesitation, before I accepted the drink. As I wrapped my slender fingers around it and brought the cup beneath my chin, the six vampires gathered in this forest clearing all watched with wide, anticipating eyes. Eager to see the results of this inadvisable trial themselves.

Aro's crimson orbs were the widest. Though I wasn't sure if it was from excitement or fear. The impassive line that was his lips betrayed absolutely nothing.

Figuring it was pointless to waste any more time, I took a deep breath through my nose.

That same wet, slightly chalky smell from before assaulted my nostrils. If I really concentrated I could catch a hint of that same metallic undertone I'd so enjoyed in human blood. But in the fluid currently before me it lacked the sharpness, the real zing, that made the aroma of my previous meals so exciting.

My upper lip scrunched involuntarily in distaste. I could already tell with my sense of smell alone that, at the very least, Rosalie was right. This drink was going to be _very bland_.

The crossed fingers behind my back curled around one another even tighter. I just hoped that it wasn't completely unswallowable. At this point, that was all I dared ask for.

With one last wary glance toward the on-looking Volturi, I slipped the little plastic straw protruding from the cup between my lips. And hesitantly sucked in.

The four vegetarians gathered to witness this momentous event all smiled happily as I slowly stared to drink their substance of preference. Carlisle in particular looked quite proud as I grew a bit bolder and started to slurp away.

Renata and Aro remained skeptical for a few moments. And their noses stayed crinkled—probably at the chalky-scent wafting from my Styrofoam cup. But eventually, as I started to gulp with even more gusto, even their pale lips started to quirk upwards, as they recalled that this was what I wanted.

Though, all six vampires' lips swiftly switched directions as I suddenly choked on the blood, sputtered and coughed. And everyone's eyebrows shot up in alarm as a few dark droplets beaded on my chin.

I fought desperately to swallow the fluid that remained in my mouth. But no matter how quickly or forcefully I tried to gulp it down, my throat staunchly refused to follow my orders. So, after a few minutes of struggling with my gag-reflex, I coughed again, and spat a thick gob of red into the dirt.

"What's wrong?" Carlisle demanded of Aro in a harried voice. "Does the child not like it?"

The hand on my belly twitched. "The child…" Aro paused, his brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to focus on my baby's scattered thoughts. "The child did not get the chance to taste it…" he breathed at last in astonishment.

" _What?"_ snarled Rosalie from the other side of the clearing. She sounded simultaneously incredulous of and offended by the idea.

"She must not have swallowed any," Aro offered with considerable trepidation, since he couldn't exactly confirm my thoughts for himself.

In response to Aro's words, I again tried to swallow the few drops of blood that were left in my mouth from my first few sips. But the effort, like my previous efforts, was ultimately futile. After making a horrid, constipated-sort-of face, I violently doubled over again and spit the remaining fluid into the dirt at my feet.

 _God, that stuff is infuriating!_ I thought as I gradually straightened back up. _The taste was okay on the front of my tongue, bland—yes—but tolerable. But as soon as I tried to swallow it… it just wouldn't go down!_

"You didn't _swallow_ it?" Rosalie shot at me, her words a barbed accusation.

I wiped a finger across my lips as discreetly as I could to get rid of any remaining traces of blood. "I didn't spit it out on purpose…" came my weak reply.

But even I knew that my justification was paltry at best.

And Rosalie didn't want to listen to my "excuses". Her supermodel-worthy face was twisted with harpy-like fury. Her legs were spread and hunkered like she was ready to pounce. And her hands were clenched ferociously at her sides.

My son jumped a little inside me as he registered the fear suddenly coursing through my veins. My hands flew over Aro's to try and make my baby feel safe again. But it was rather difficult to stop him from squirming around in apprehension when I couldn't even stop my own traitorous heart from hammering out of control. I was certain that the thundering sound was only making him more nervous. And if I didn't calm down soon, I figured it was only a matter of time before he shattered my pelvis, or some other bone in my body, with a devastating kick...

Hunched in a fighting stance, Rosalie began to saunter forward.

"Rosalie, no!" Carlisle called across the clearing as soon as he saw his surrogate daughter start to move towards us. "Fighting isn't good for the baby, remember?" he reminded her in a desperate voice.

Immediately upon hearing this, Rosalie halted in the grass. After a moment's consideration she dropped her fists. Then she straightened up, and gave her father figure a reluctant nod, accepting the logic of his remarks. Apparently, my baby's health was more important to her than whatever Rosalie had been hoping to forcibly prove.

A fact for which I was immensely grateful.

To more fully display that she'd changed her mind, Rosalie took a few steps back, until she was halfway into the trees, with her palms raised in a gesture of surrender.

As the five of us witnessed this action, Carlisle's tense shoulders relaxed and I heaved a sigh of relief. My hummingbird-like heart slowed to a more reasonable pace, now that the imminent danger seemed to have passed. And my son, in response to my restored tranquility, stilled within my womb.

 _That was close_ , I thought, afraid of the ghastly consequences I might have faced had Rosalie not obeyed Carlisle.

"Remember our agreement last night?" Carlisle suddenly directed in Rosalie's direction, jolting me from my terrified thoughts.

Rosalie's face, once again, contorted with negative emotion in response to the doctor's words. But it was equally as obvious, from the sour look in her eyes, that she understood what Carlisle was referring to, despite the fact that I hadn't been informed of any pacts made between the vampires whilst I was asleep.

I fought the urge to frown about the fact that I'd been deliberately left in the dark. Again.

At least they were letting me know _—_ in a roundabout sort of way _—_ now.

"We agreed that there would be no more fighting," Carlisle declared. "Aro and Renata are our _guests,"_ he added with special emphasis. "And more importantly, Bella needs a stress-free environment in order to bring her baby to term," he contributed, deliberately selecting words he knew would appeal to the motherly blonde's strange priorities. "If you cannot agree to that _—_ "

"Then leave," Rosalie cut in bitingly. She crossed her arms over her ample chest. "I _know._ "

Carlisle nodded slowly. "You cannot stay if you cannot behave, Rosalie," he said in a soft, warning tone.

Rosalie made a sharp huff, and turned up her nose. "Fine."

Then Rosalie turned and stared penetratingly towards me. Like she wanted to bore a hole through my skull with the intensity of her yellow-eyed gaze alone. She growled, "Try to swallow next time, _Bella._ "

 _I tried. I really did,_ I wanted to tell her. But I kept my mouth pursed into a guilty line, rather than saying anything. I doubted Rosalie would listen to me at this point anyway.

Rosalie's harsh eyes flickered toward Carlisle for a second, then returned to me before she announced, rather self-righteously "I'll be back when this house is purged of _all_ human-drinkers."

I swallowed thickly as I registered her meaning. _Rosalie's going to leave. She doesn't want to be here as long as there are vampires here who don't share her diet._

And more importantly, _Rosalie doesn't want to be here as long as_ _ **I**_ _don't share her diet._

My heart sank at the realization that, just like Carlisle's experience in Volterra, different eating habits were going to drive a coven apart. I wasn't given much time to ponder this, however, before Rosalie suddenly whipped around, darted into the forest, and vanished from sight amidst the dense foliage.

Emmett called after her, trying to persuade her to come back. But the forest gave no response.

My original protector had officially abandoned me.

…

Despite the fact that I still had unanswered questions about my potential as a future vegetarian, the five remaining vampires decided that my one, unpleasant experience with animal blood, was enough risk for today.

I felt like, given that I hadn't even swallowed, and learned how animal blood settled (or didn't settle) in my stomach, I couldn't be sure of anything. That my ability to dine as the Cullens did was still up in the air. And that its nutritional impact on my son was still undetermined.

But ultimately, I agreed with Aro's reasoning that the activation of my gag-reflex was probably a sign that my baby wouldn't like it. Especially given how intimately tied-up my son's dietary preferences and my digestive system's reactions seemed to be as of late.

So I reluctantly agreed to return inside. I figured that any further attempts would be pointless anyway, given that they'd likely yield identical results. And, on the off chance that they didn't—another cup of animal blood could produce _worse_ results. Like a broken spinal column.

But there were some questions I wasn't willing to just let lie until my child was delivered.

"What did I do wrong?" I asked Carlisle, as we padded into the kitchen. I was convinced, based on Rosalie's drastic response, that I must have fundamentally screwed up somehow.

But Carlisle surprised me by firmly shaking his head and insisting, "Nothing," before gesturing towards the mahogany dining table on the other side of the room, indicating where he wanted me to sit.

Silently, I complied with the doctor's wishes, settling into an elegantly carved wooden chair. I watched Carlisle from a distance as he walked around the island in the center of the kitchen. Once he reached the other side, he picked up the warm cup of O positive he'd prepared before this debacle off of the granite countertop, and walked it over to the table in front of me.

"The way you reacted…" the doctor began a bit hesitantly. "That's… very normal actually," he revealed with a sorrowful expression.

Carlisle suddenly drew close enough for me to smell the divine, metallic scent wafting from the receptacle in his hands. The incredible aroma was making it extremely hard to concentrate on the doctor's words all of a sudden. I could feel myself salivating. But my eyebrows still rose halfway up my forehead at this startling admission.

"Really?"

Carlisle nodded. "Absolutely."

I twisted my face quizzically to indicate that I wanted him to elaborate, before Carlisle suddenly set the beverage in his hands down in front of me. As his hands drew back, I was delightfully surprised to discover that he'd put the drink in a thermos, and that it was still warm to the touch, despite our considerable delay.

Once my hands were curled around the thermos, I wasted no time lifting it to my lips. And, as soon as I received gustatory proof that the fluid inside was not the horrid, chalky experience from earlier, but the exquisite salty, vinegar-like flavor I so thoroughly enjoyed, I proceeded to guzzle it down with fervor.

Realizing that I wasn't exactly in a position to talk, given how occupied I was with devouring the blood he'd so graciously provided me with, Carlisle sighed and decided to explain. "I too, thought it was strange at first, when Aro declared my diet to be… I believe 'utterly unpalatable' were his exact words."

Abruptly, I stopped slurping, and set down the thermos down on the counter. "The Volturi tried animal blood?" I queried in shock, before resuming my delicious task.

 _That was news to me._

"Only the wives and the new recruits," Carlisle stipulated as I noisily drank. I guessed he wanted to suggest that it wasn't a very popular idea, especially among veteran vampires. "Aro simply obtained his information from their memories…"

 _Oh, right. Aro can do that._

"And I would hardly call what they did a proper 'try'," Carlisle went on in a dismal tone. "Most of those who volunteered turned away at the smell alone," he explained, strolling over to the other side of the kitchen where an empty blood bag laid discarded on the counter. "And those who persisted…"

Carlisle picked up the empty plastic bag and tossed it with all the practiced refinement of a professional basketball player into the trashcan, "They all spit it out."

An ugly frown warped my human features as I took in Carlisle's words. I reluctantly set my thermos down again. "All of them?" I took another long sip of the decidedly exquisite liquid in front of me, before I expounded. "They all spit, like me?"

"It is rare to find vampires who do not," Carlisle admitted with a heavy sigh. "I did warn you the day before yesterday that my methods are not well-liked…" he reminded me in a patient, even tone.

Carlisle's words from that time reverberated in my ears as the doctor nervously twiddled his thumbs. _Very few find it bearable to live as we do._

Uneasily, I shook away the memory. "But you didn't warn me that I could choke…" I protested.

And that omission of detail, for some reason, felt like a much bigger deal than it really was. Probably because at the moment I was hypersensitive to any omissions of detail, since I was finally realizing how many Edward had committed in teaching me about himself and vampirekind.

"I wanted to remain optimistic," the doctor supplied as his rationalization. "Besides, if I had told you that choking was a possibility, that would only make that outcome more likely. You'd be thinking about choking, and therefore you might do so without meaning to."

"Like how talking about yawning makes you want to yawn?" I asked, after another sip. It was the best comparison I could think of, off the top of my head.

Carlisle enthusiastically bobbed his head in agreement. "Exactly."

The doctor started pacing around the kitchen. His eyes flickered intently over the glossy granite counter tops, probably in search of anything else that might have been left out of place. Like a stray plastic lid or a package of opened straws.

I took a particularly long sip of my drink as the doctor walked around, finishing the tall container off. After I set the empty thermos down on the table, I leaned back in my chair and savored the taste of warm O positive lingering on my tongue. _Good heavens that's delicious,_ I thought half-deliriously.

"Is there any chance that…" I pushed the empty cup across the table toward Carlisle. "…I might be able to not choke on animal blood someday?" I half-asked, half-pleaded with the kindly blond in before me. I desperately wanted the answer to be yes. Any glimmer of hope at this point would be a godsend.

Carlisle suddenly paused in his pacing and looked me dead in the eye. His facial expression was piercing and deeply, deeply sad.

My heart sank. And I gulped as it slowly dawned on me what the grave emotion I saw in his butterscotch eyes must mean.

"I don't know," Carlisle admitted with perfect, defeated honesty. "Perhaps," he weakly allowed. "But none of us who stayed…" he made a circular gesture towards the entirety of the house to indicate his meaning—that is, none of the current Cullens. "None of us struggled with our first taste as much as you did."

"…N-none?" I stammered in shock.

Carlisle gravely shook his head. "If I am correct in my assessment, your body refused to swallow, and you struggled with your gag-reflex," he said more as a statement than a question. As though he was already sure he was right.

I nodded to confirm anyway. _That is accurate._

The frown marring Carlisle's beautiful face grew cavernous. His eyebrows knit together in frustrated confusion, like the outcome of my experiment both bewildered and vexed him. And a heavy sigh escaped his down-turned lips. "While animal blood is… an _acquired taste_ for certain—" the doctor admitted with a wry smile, "—none of us encountered that problem."

My mouth gaped at this bit of info. "Why?" I felt the need to ask.

Carlisle abashedly shook his head. "Unfortunately, I haven't the slightest clue," he confessed before taking away the empty thermos in front of me, and replacing it with a tall, white, Styrofoam cup filled to the brim with my new favorite liquid.

Again, it was pleasantly warm. And despite not having asked for another glass, I wasn't about to complain. As I positioned the plastic straw between my eager lips and started sucking fervidly, I reasoned that my son was probably still hungry, given how much the two of us had consumed every other time I got thirsty, before. So it wasn't a glutinous waste.

"For some, indiscernible reason, there seems to be a spectrum of compatibility with animal blood," Carlisle elaborated in a scientific tone. "Most vampires find it completely unswallowable. Others, experience stomach problems when they drink it akin to those experienced by lactose intolerants who drink milk. And a select few, like myself, experience only minimal issues."

"And you don't know why this happens?" I probed, desperately hoping that, with all of his medical history, the blond doctor had uncovered _something_ potentially helpful.

Carlisle chuckled humorlessly before he supplied another astonishing bout of information. "One of Aro's theories is that we vegetarians have some sort of mutation," he said, making contorted gestures towards himself. "Some gene in my strain of venom that allows us to feed as we do."

 _Aro thought Carlisle was a_ _ **mutant**_ _? And that he passed that mutation down to those he turned?_

"It would explain," Carlisle continued, oblivious to my inner musings, "why you had so much trouble, since it is _James'_ venom, rather than mine, or Edward's, altering your physiology now," he hesitantly allowed. "Of course, that theory doesn't explain Jonathan, Lizzy and Madelyn's choices..." he quickly added, to demonstrate that the ancient's postulate wasn't without flaw. "If Aro were correct, they should not have left us."

 _Not necessarily,_ my mind contended. _Even Edward, who is just as capable of drinking animal blood as Carlisle, chose to hunt humans for a time. I don't see why the others couldn't have simply made a similar choice, albeit more permanently,_ I thought with a gulp.

But, there still was one obvious hole in Aro's reasoning. "Aro's theory also doesn't explain Alice and Jasper," I chipped in, recalling that Carlisle wasn't their maker. "Or any of the vegetarians in Denali," I appended, as I remembered that the Cullens weren't the only vegetarians in the world.

Carlisle glumly nodded before he went on. "Whatever the reason," he began, before he drew back from the table once more. "Your compatibility doesn't look good," he said in a defeated tone. "Even Jasper, who has the most difficulties with our diet, had no issues swallowing animal blood the first time…" he trailed off.

Carlisle averted his eyes, and nervously twiddled his thumbs in front of his stomach.

My eyes widened to the point where I was certain they'd burst from my sockets. _Even Jasper?_ I thought, horrified by the prospect that, even with the full-force of all my willpower, I couldn't do something that the Cullen with the worst track record when it came to human deaths had managed to do. _I'm already destined to do worse than him, is that what Carlisle's saying?_ I despaired.

Despite the horror I felt, my mouth didn't budge from where it was latched onto my delicious source of nourishment. But it wasn't like there was anything particularly eloquent I had to contribute to the conversation at this point anyway. Aside from heartily gulping down more human blood, I was paralytic from astonishment.

In light of my silence, Carlisle decided to change topics slightly. He directed a flawless index finger toward the cup in my hands. "Until the child is born, I'll allow you to continue drinking this," he stated, referring to the hospital blood inside. "However, once he or she is born, I must insist that you hunt for yourself," he finished with a labored sigh.

Carlisle's sigh suggested he was loath to enforce such an ultimatum. But that because of the concerns both Rosalie and Aro had raised earlier about using bagged blood in the long-term, it was necessary.

"The other doctors are already beginning to grow suspicious of my absence and the correlating absence of O positive from their storage…" Carlisle explained with a voice that was on the verge of breaking from emotion. "I would hate to require you to…" he pursed his lips, unwilling to say the apparently abominable thing aloud. "But I cannot continue to deceive them forever. And you will no doubt be _very_ thirsty after the procedure is complete…"

I finally pulled back from my drink for a moment. "Why would I—?"

"I'm going to have to use my teeth to extract your child," Carlisle tersely reminded me. "Not only will the injuries from that experience be extensive, and require a lot of nourishment to heal, but I also cannot help the fact that my teeth contain venom," he explained. "Aro and I believe that, despite the venom already spreading in your body, a new infusion of it will behave much like venom typically does in human systems."

"Meaning, I spend a few days thrashing in pain before I can eat," I finished for him before taking another sip.

Carlisle's head slowly bobbed in agreement as I drank. "At that time, I must insist that you start hunting."

Again, his tone was anything but encouraging.

I swallowed the blood on my tongue uneasily and asked, "Hunting _what_ exactly…?" Given that Carlisle already believed I was less suited to be a vegetarian than even Jasper, I was almost certain I wasn't going to like the answer.

A flash of intense pain crossed the doctor's face for a moment before he swiftly composed himself. His fists were still clenched, white-knuckled, at his sides, though, as he responded. "Animals, if you can find it in you…"

"And if I can't?"

 _That was the real clincher. That was what I was dying to know._

Carlisle gulped and refused to look me in the eyes. "Ask, Aro."

…

"What am I going to do?" I implored of Aro later that day after finishing off three tall cups of blood. "Carlisle seems certain that I'm not cut out for his diet. But I don't want to be a _murderer_!"

Renata, who insisted on accompanying Aro everywhere, stiffened in her seat on the opposite couch, in response to my words. But otherwise, she made no comment, since she'd vowed to be an unobtrusive bodyguard, and was trying her hardest to live up to her promise to simply be a part of the scenery. To not behave as though she was a part of, or had even heard our conversation, unless we explicitly asked her to.

Aro either missed, or ignored his subordinate's reaction. "There is still much time to explore your options," he tried to assure me, smoothing one hand over my knee as I sat next to him. "Carlisle says that the child will not come for at least another four days."

He'd meant that last statement to be encouraging. To remind me that we didn't need to do anything in haste, since there was still time to deliberate over my options. But the knowledge that there was any limit, any timescale at all, was the opposite of encouraging to me.

"Four days?!" I shouted. I was aggrieved by the terrible news that my time left as a semi-human was that short. " _Four days!_ " I repeated even louder. "That's not very much time at all!" I complained with wildly flailing arms. "I don't want to be killing someone in four days!"

"Shhh… Bella," Aro purred in a sedate voice. "I will find you an adequate solution," he insisted. Then he gently curled his hands around my raised wrists, slowly drew my arms back down and settled them delicately in my lap. "I promise."

But again, rather than serving as a comfort, Aro's words only unsettled me more. I flinched as I recalled the gaggle of tourists the Volturi had consumed when I'd visited Aro in Volterra. I highly doubted I was going to like any of Aro's "adequate solutions."

"Maybe when the transformation is finished… if Carlisle is the one to do it... maybe I'll be different?" I desperately tried to convince myself.

But even to my own ears, my argument sounded pathetically weak. My digestive system was already changed. So even if Carlisle's venom held the ticket to vegetarianism, his venom would probably just pick up where James' had left off, leaving animal blood just as inedible to me as before.

Aro's white lips twisted into a deep frown. "I highly doubt it. But if it will soothe your conscience, I would not object to another trial after the child is born," he offered as a potential alternative, in spite of his reservations about the idea's effectiveness.

I nodded and took a deep breath to calm my frazzled nerves. "I'd like that," I told him in a much quieter voice. "Even if it doesn't work…" I grimaced at the idea and unconsciously crossed my fingers in my lap, begging whatever force might listen that it _would_ work. "…it doesn't hurt to try, right?"

Slowly, but surely, Aro nodded in acceptance of my reasoning and started absently tracing his fingers along the trail of vampire-flesh extending from the moon-shaped scar on my wrist. I fought the urge to shiver as my body registered the unfamiliar sensation of _warm_ fingertips brushing delicately across my forearm. Instead I tried to just enjoy Aro's expert ministrations, and not worry about the fact that the portion of my arm that was the same temperature as Aro was measurably larger than yesterday.

Just as I was beginning to relax, I felt Aro's other hand reach over and start idly caressing the upper half of that same arm, which to my alarm, was still a tad warmer than him, but not by as much as I had remembered. Though, I quickly decided to ignore the potentially frightening ramifications of this development, in favor of basking in Aro's tactile praise.

After a few seconds of happily sinking into the couch cushions, I suddenly sat upright again as I remembered something.

Aro automatically relinquished his hands as soon as he registered my movement and looked towards me expectantly. There was no worry in his eyes, but they didn't blink either.

His intense gaze made my cheeks flush. "Oh, um… thanks for the necklace," I said, rubbing the back of my neck in embarrassment for not bringing this up sooner. "Sorry I forgot to tell you earlier," I apologized awkwardly. "It's beautiful."

Aro's aristocratic face brightened. "I am delighted to hear that you like it," he enthused with a genuine smile. "I was worried that you might not, given your penchant for not appreciating gifts…."

"Normally I don't," I confirmed. "I just don't like to feel obligated to give back. I don't have a lot to give," I explained. I held up two empty palms in demonstration of the fact that I felt like it was impossible for me to properly reciprocate. "Your gift doesn't come with any… strings attached, does it?" I asked warily.

Aro laughed at my suggestion. "Absolutely not," he promised with clasped hands. "It belongs to you," he insisted, as though resting around my neck was the precise location that gorgeous treasure had been manufactured to hang.

My head inclined at a skeptical angle. "You're certain it isn't for someone else? Someone… prettier?"

I failed to see how someone as bland as I was befitting of what was, in my estimation, the biggest solid diamond in the world. Certainly there had to be someone else more worthy of it. Heck, it'd look pretty impressive resting between Heidi's enormous boobs.

"You were wearing it in the vision Alice showed me of you," Aro suddenly revealed in a shocking bout of total honesty. "So it is yours."

 _What? Alice saw me wearing it? Why would she see that?_ I wondered. _Did she know that Aro would give it to me, even then?_ I considered, taken aback by the potential implications. _Had she seen anything else in that vision of my future as a vampire?_ _Maybe even a potential future I had with Aro?_

I wasn't sure whether to blanch or blush at the thought of Aro and I together in a more permanent way. Given Aro's feelings, it wasn't entirely impossible that Alice had seen something of the sort. Her gift did show possibilities…

 _But if a romance between us was something she had seen…_ I suddenly thought. _Was it something she'd been trying to prevent?_

 _Or instigate?_

 _Had she known all along that Aro would come here? Was her vehement disapproval of my pregnancy all an act? Perhaps one calculated to get Edward to leave?_ I suddenly realized was the alternative.

The fact that all of those scenarios were equally possible, given the petite vampire's future-seeing powers, was not comforting at all. Because it gave me no direction.

If Alice had been trying to keep Aro and I apart, it was probably for a good reason. But if she was trying to bring us together instead, that was probably _also_ for a good reason. However, since I had no clue which one she'd been trying to do, I had no idea which way I ought to proceed.

Despite her vocal misgiving about my child, in the end, Alice always knew best.

At my quizzical expression, Aro continued. "You really are destined for it, dearest Bella," he effused with glittering, faraway eyes that told me he was picturing vampire-me in his head again. "I dare say I could never find a soul who would suit it more," he went on, pressing a palm against his chest. "I sent the necklace when I thought you were transformed because it looked so perfect on you it would be crime for me to keep it."

Aro paused for a moment, waiting for me to supply some sort of response.

But I said nothing. I was too busy staring into oblivion as the cogs in my brain whirred faster than ever before as I struggled to wrap my head around Alice's confusing actions, and even more bewildering foresight.

"Unless…" Aro raised a single, uneasy eyebrow, "…you do not like it, after all?"

 _That_ jolted my face out of its blank expression.

"Of course I like it." _How could I not?_ "It's perfect."

And it was. I just didn't quite share Aro's lofty estimation of myself. So I wasn't entirely convinced that I was worthy of it. It was certainly more than worthy of me.

"And so are you," Aro said, dipping his head to give the back of my right hand a tender kiss.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. I most definitely was _not_ perfect, else I wouldn't have ended up here—pregnant with a hybrid, whose father was truthfully—loathe as I was to admit it—a perverse, psychologically abusive monster.

And yet, there was a significant part of me that was grateful for that imperfection. This pregnancy had already taught me so much valuable information. And it had given me the opportunity to meet Aro—who I was swiftly starting to like, in potentially a more than friendly sort of way.

Despite the fact that he and I had vastly different perspectives on the value of human life…

After a long, awkward pause, I decided to switch topics drastically since I was uncomfortable with all of Aro's unwarranted praise. "So yesterday, you and Carlisle—"

I paused mid-sentence as I noticed the formerly unobtrusive figure of Renata suddenly leap to her feet from off of the opposite couch. Before I had a chance to say anything, she dashed across the room, a blur of darkness against the tawny interior decorations, only to come to a fierce halt in front of the row of floor-to-ceiling windows behind Aro and I.

She was still wearing the same all-black ensemble that she'd worn at the airport. And the hood of her velvety cloak was up, so I couldn't see much of what she was doing as she stood facing the bright, glass panes. But I got the impression from the way she stood statuesquely still that she was staring at something outside.

"Wait, what's Renata doing?" I figured she wouldn't have disobeyed Aro's implicit order to not be a distraction without good reason. Even if I couldn't see anything worth darting across the room for from my awkward vantage point.

"Never mind her." Aro waved one hand dismissively. And with the other he turned my chin back to face him.

 _Never mind her?_ I cast one more look at the petite vampire over my shoulder. _What if this is important?_ I worried. _She's your bodyguard, right? Therefore, don't sudden movements mean danger?_

"You were saying?" Aro urged. Again, he tried to direct my gaze away from his suspiciously-behaving subordinate.

 _Clearly he doesn't think it's an issue,_ I mused as I let Aro guide my head back towards his. _Or he does, and he just doesn't want me privy to whatever it is._ My face soured at that thought. _I really hope not. I thought we were past the stage of keeping secrets from each other._

Awkwardly, I cleared my throat before I rephrased my earlier question. "What did you and Carlisle talk about when you went outside?" I asked. "He seems to be a lot more comfortable with you around me now."

"Ah, how astute of you to notice," Aro appraised. But after a few seconds, his glowing face darkened and he heartily sighed. "A great many things, actually. As you most definitely recall, our last private conversation did not end on the best foot."

I nodded. I did recall.

"I endeavored to resolve as many of the issues addressed during that discussion as I could. As much as his stubbornness to see my point of view infuriates me, I have no desire to lose him as a friend," the black haired man explained. "On most fronts, unfortunately, we came to an impasse and were required to… shall we say… _agree to disagree,_ " he went on in a sour tone.

Aro paused for a moment to pensively consider his hands, before his face suddenly shot back up, bearing a large, pearly-white grin. "Though I do believe I was successful at convincing him of at least one thing."

"And what's that?" I wondered aloud.

"That Edward's absence gives me the right to pursue you," Aro announced with a devilish smile.

I gasped at this astonishing tidbit of information. I hadn't expected that Carlisle would budge on that front so easily. All of his behavior over the past couple of days seemed to be calculated to try and drive us apart. That he would perform a complete one-eighty in that regard all because of a simple conversation, was almost unthinkable.

My mouth gaped like a fish. "How did you…?" I started, but I couldn't quite finished my sentence. The shock of Aro's revelation was too great.

"In reality, Carlisle is ashamed of his son for abandoning you not just once, but a second time," Aro elucidated. "With a considerable amount of coaxing, I was able to persuade him to accept that such a behavior isn't befitting of a husband."

A heavy lump clogged my throat as I remembered the acute emotional sting of both of Edward's abandonments. _No, that isn't befitting of a husband at all,_ I inwardly agreed. _Husbands and wives are supposed to support each other, not threaten, and then leave._

"But Carlisle still doesn't believe that Edward is… an incubus, does he?"

Aro sadly shook his head. "No."

"Does he still think that…?" I pointed at Aro's lean chest "…that you're one?"

In my periphery, I caught Renata's hands frittering uncomfortably in response to my inquiry, clearly offended that I anyone would dare to make such an accusation of her master. But Aro merely inclined his head in curiosity. "And where did you get that idea?"

Nervously, I cleared my throat before I explained. "When you tried to hold my hand… Carlisle said—"

"Ah, yes I remember," Aro cut me off, tapping his chin as the memories from that fateful night came back to him. "To answer your question, no. Carlisle does not truly believe that of me," he announced. "He merely misinterpreted where I was reaching, and was frustrated that I had no respect for young Edward's claim on you."

I let out a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding.

"In Carlisle's mind, calling me an _incubus_ is akin to simply labeling me a pervert," Aro added, to help me see why the doctor would have used, what I saw as a pretty severe indictment, in such a non-serious way. "I am not certain that the doctor really understands significance, or the difference," he added with a small frown. "He seems to grasp well enough that Tanya, Kate and Irina have certain proclivities that are… _unacceptable_ …"

Aro didn't elaborate on what those "proclivities" were. But given how the three sisters had leered at some of the human guests at my wedding, there was plenty for my unfortunately vivid imagination to work with.

"Though, he is not the first to say such things," Aro idly remarked, with a dismissive toss of one hand. "And others have actually meant it."

"There are other vampires that think _you're_ an incubus?" I demanded, feeling nearly as scandalized as Renata had been at the prospect. "That's absurd," I pointedly declared.

Aro grinned. It was almost feral. "Quite," he agreed.

"Why would anyone say that?" I asked. I was baffled by the idea that anyone could legitimately think Aro was the same sort of lurid creature Edward had turned out to be. Even I, who still didn't know the man remarkably well, was certain that he was not, at this point.

"Some find it curious that I, despite my many millennia of existence have not yet found a mate," Aro decided to tell me. "That I am an incubus, and therefore incapable of forming mating bonds, to many vampires seems like the most logical conclusion."

"Wait… what exactly is a mating bond?" That much had never been properly explained to me.

"You realize that when a human becomes a vampire that everything is heightened, yes?" Aro suddenly inquired.

I blinked in bewilderment. I failed to see how this was relevant. "Heightened?"

"Increased senses, increased strength, and potentially the manifestation of certain powers…"

 _Oh, right._

"Yes…" I answered tentatively, still not entirely sure where Aro was going with this.

I glanced over at Renata for a second, to see if she had any inkling of what her Master was getting at, and how this related to mating bonds. But she didn't move a muscle as she continued to stare out of the windows at nothing in particular.

At least, nothing I could see.

"In the same vein, as immortals, all of our emotions, and the chemicals that control them, are more intense as well," Aro elucidated. "Everything is much more… _passionate_." Both of his hands curled into tight balls in front of him to illustrate his point.

"Okay…" I acknowledged skeptically.

"When humans mate, certain chemicals are released in the brain," Aro remarked encyclopedically. "Chemicals that are meant to induce feelings of security and bonding."

"Wait… you mean like… oxytocin, dopamine and serotonin?"

I was momentarily surprised that Aro was being so medical about this. At least, until I recalled that he'd read the entirety of Carlisle's mind. Then, at least his terminology made sense—though I remained totally topically lost. _How did this relate to my question, again?_

"In vampires, those same chemicals are replaced with venom," Aro explained. "And I am sure that you can imagine, since the venom that replaces our saliva is potent enough to completely rewrite human DNA, that the venom that replaces our emotional chemicals is quite powerful."

"Oh. _Oh_." I was starting to piece everything together now. "So vampire mating is…"

Aro gave a short, serious nod. "Yes. It can be quite life-altering," he purred in a silky voice that sent shivers down my spine. "When a vampire mates with someone who they have chosen to truly love and who has chosen to truly love them back, the act binds them for life and changes the composition of their venom."

My eyebrows practically disappeared into my forehead at this. _Changes the composition of their venom?_ _Binds them for life? That's some powerful stuff!_

"A properly mated couple will smell different after the ritual is complete," Aro concluded, pointing demonstratively towards his nose for affect.

"So the ritual is just…" I hesitated for a moment before I decided my squeamishness was silly, "… _sex_ between vampires?"

I wasn't expecting an answer in the positive—but to my astonishment, Aro nodded. "Between the _right_ vampires," he gave as the only caveat. "Mere physical intercourse is not enough," he clarified with a definitive shake of his head.

At once, I wondered if, perhaps Aro had any experience with "mere physical intercourse". A sharp stab of jealousy shot through me at the thought, which I couldn't explain. I had absolutely no right to be angry that Aro may have had previous lovers, given my own colored sexual history, our lack of real serious relationship, and his incredible age. So I quickly expunged the rotten feeling from my heart and tried to focus on Aro's words.

"Both vampires must give the entirety of their selves to one another in the midst of the act. Mind, body and soul," Aro continued. He gestured first to his head, then to his chest. "Nothing can be held back. It must be a total, mutual surrender," he revealed in somewhat rapturous tones. As though that act of complete abandonment to another person was something he desperately looked forward too.

My cheeks grew hot as I caught myself involuntarily imagining what that must feel like. The absolute, unadulterated bliss that someone might feel in that fateful moment when they "completed the ritual" so to speak. As a human, sex was already amazing. And if Aro was to be believed, it got even better as a vampire, regardless of whether the parties involved became mates. So, I could only imagine that doing it with the right vampire would be pure, transcendent ecstasy.

"I should be clear that it is entirely our choice who we mate with," Aro suddenly felt the need to tell me. "Unlike your shape-shifter friends, who have no choice whom they imprint upon, theoretically, I could mate with any vampire, provided we both decided that was what we truly wanted," he gave as the difference between him and the wolf pack in La Push.

I nodded happily at this revelation. I had always firmly believed that love should be a choice, not something thrust upon you. So the knowledge that vampires retained the same freedom as humans to decide who was the best fit for them, was heartening.

"However a certain degree of compatibility is, apparently, required to…" he trailed off, though, not exactly sure how to finish his sentence.

I decided to urge him on. "Compatibility…?"

Aro heaved a deep sigh before he deigned to explain. "At one time, I made a sincere effort to mate with another." His eyes narrowed and grew dark. Though, it wasn't anger blackening his normally red eyes. Instead, it was a deep, cutting remorse. "But we did not succeed."

I bit into my lower lip to prevent it from gaping open at this revelation.

"After our first, failed attempted, we tried many, many times," Aro shared with a gloomy complexion. "But we never were quite the right fit for one another. Every time we attempted to complete the ritual, we always held something back," he revealed with hands withdrawn behind his back as a visual demonstration of their emotional guardedness with one another.

"I suppose that deep down, we both knew that we were not suited to be mates," Aro finished with a long sigh. A sigh that sounded self-castigating, as though Aro thought he shouldn't have tried for so long to force something to work that obviously wasn't going to.

After allowing Aro a few moments of space, I tentatively asked, "Who was this vampire?"

Aro's eyes sought mine out before he answered in low tones. "Her name was Sulpicia."

I gasped at the familiar name. _That's the woman Carlisle was talking about earlier. The one he said that Aro had claimed to love._

I leaned forward on the edge of my seat. "What happened?" I was suddenly desperate to know. "Tell me the whole story."

It was obvious that things had not gone according to plan, since Aro remained unmated. And I was dying to know why his sincere attempts had gone wrong.


	14. Chapter 14: Answers

**AN: Now we get to learn about Sulpicia!**

* * *

 _I will remember that I do not treat a fever chart, a cancerous growth,_

 _but a sick human being, whose illness may affect the person's family and economic stability._

 _My responsibility includes these related problems, if I am to care adequately for the sick._

 _(Modern Version of the Hippocratic Oath)_

…

CHAPTER 14: ANSWERS

Aro clasped his hands uneasily in his lap and avoided my eyes. "That is, I am afraid, a very long story." It was obvious from his aggrieved expression that this period of his life was something he still harbored a great deal of regret over. And that he would rather not speak of it.

But I wasn't about to just let this one go. Not when Aro knew practically everything there was to know about _my_ romantic history.

"I don't have anything better to do," I reminded Aro with a shrug. "And it's not like I'm going to judge you for having a previous lover." I grinned sheepishly. "That'd be kinda hypocritical."

Aro, evidently deciding that I was right, took a deep breath before he launched into his tale. "As I mentioned before, my conspicuous lack of a mate in the 6th century generated some nasty rumors in the vampire community, not the least of which, was that I was an incubus," he began, straining to keep his voice matter-of-fact and devoid of emotion.

"While it is generally accepted that a vampire may take several centuries to find an appropriate match..."Aro went on in the same, stifled tone.

 _That's right, Carlisle didn't find Esme until he was well over two-hundred. And no one seemed to think it was strange that Edward was still looking,_ I internally acknowledged.

"...I was nearly two-thousand, when the Volturi rose to power in the 6th century," Aro finished with a reluctant sigh.

 _Two_ ** _thousand_** _?_ I thought, astonished by the news. _That_ _ **is**_ _a long time to still be looking._

"At the time," Aro continued, "Caius, for all his cruelty, was mated. And to many, that made him a sympathetic figure," he told me with somewhat of a grimace, as though he himself hardly understood how simply having a mate made up for all the white-haired vampire's sadism.

I couldn't help but agree. In fact, I found myself pitying the poor woman, despite never having met her. I knew that even the vilest of criminals were still capable of genuinely loving their wives, but the idea of anyone having to put up with a man who, to my knowledge, was always eager for more violence, sent a ripple of sympathetic terror down my spine.

"Marcus, on the other hand, had just lost his mate of several millennia," Aro revealed sadly with a bowed head. "And that made him even more of a sympathetic figure."

 _Was that why Marcus had looked so lifeless when I last saw him in Volterra?_ I mused. _Because the love of his life was long dead?_ I considered bleakly. _How awful._

"But I had no mate to speak of." Aro he revealed with an impish shrug. "And at the time, no real desire to obtain one."

I inclined my head at a forty-five degree angle in puzzlement to display my desire for Aro to expound on this idea. I guess, like the vampires he'd mentioned, I also struggled to comprehend the idea of spending _two thousand years_ being single, without any real compunction to remedy that state. I supposed that Aro didn't have to worry, like humans did, that he would risk eternal spinsterhood if he waited too long, since as a vampire, he didn't physically age. But I still found it hard to believe that he wouldn't crave that deeper relationship that, say, Carlisle and Esme had, for that long.

I certainly couldn't imagine myself feeling that way.

"You never had… any err… _relations_?" I asked dubiously. "Until Sulpicia?" I added immediately, recalling that he'd mentioned that they'd attempted to mate (which I took to mean that they'd had sex multiple times, but because they never quite fully surrendered to each other, it never changed their venom).

I desperately hoped that the irrational jealousy I felt towards this mysterious woman for having had "mere intercourse" with Aro wasn't visible on my face. It was stupid. And Aro didn't need to know that my pregnancy hormones were making me super petty all of a sudden.

Aro exhaled in exasperation before he explained. "Bella my dear, I was just finishing my second millennia when I met Sulpicia," he reminded me in a patient tone. "Surely, you cannot expect that I remained celibate during all that time…"

My brows knit together in bewilderment at Aro's remarks. If he had been human, then of course not. Not all men were insatiable sex-machines. But from the few days I'd spent with Aro, during which he'd explained precisely how he found me attractive, it was clear that he possessed some libido. Libido I was certain he would have acted on by now, if he only had the typical human problems to worry about.

But Aro was a vampire. And given how, _life-altering_ , the consequences of vampire sex could be, I could only imagine that if he didn't want a mate during those two thousand years, that the safest option was to be abstinent.

 _Am I missing something vital?_ I wondered.

It was true that Aro had mentioned that the two vampires having sex needed to completely surrender to each other—emotionally, physically, spiritually—and all that, to actually become mates.

 _But what if you get really comfortable and abandon everything on accident?_ I thought fearfully. _Is that a possibility? How conscious, exactly, does this 'surrender' have to be?_

Based on his earlier remarks, I gathered that Aro was surprised that he and Sulpicia hadn't been able to mate the first time, or during any of their subsequent attempts. So I got the sense that in the vampire world, couples normally became mates after the first or second try. And therefore, if no permanent relationship was desired, any sexual activity could be considered risky.

 _Am I wrong?_ I wondered uneasily.

"It is a common practice," Aro began, shaking me from my thoughts, "for vampires who are not yet ready to mate, to take temporary lovers," he elucidated slowly, so that I wouldn't miss a single word.

I leaned forward on the couch we shared to hear him better.

"As I mentioned before, it often takes a few centuries for our kind to find an appropriate match. And while some, like dearest Carlisle, are content to wait until they meet the one whom they choose to mate…"Aro disclosed in pleasant, if a bit envious, tones. "Others, such as myself, seek companionship in the interim."

I wasn't really surprised that Carlisle shared Edward's sexual restraint, given his staunch, Christian upbringing. Nor was I particularly surprised that Aro, given his radically different moral outlook, didn't share Carlisle's same reservations about pre-marital sex. But, perhaps because the only person I'd ever had sex with was someone I'd loved—and someone it scared me to realize I probably would have mated with, had the two of us both been vampires—I was still confused.

"Isn't that… _dangerous?_ " I queried hesitantly.

"There is a certain degree of risk in the practice," Aro acknowledged in a warning tone. He wagged his index finger back and forth as if to suggest that it wasn't exactly the most advisable activity. "Even though both vampires must _want_ to become mates for the ritual to be complete," Aro reminded me was a mitigating factor. "…emotions can run high during passionate moments, leading some couples to mate accidentally," he concluded, confirming my suspicions that vampire sex was not something to be embarked upon lightly.

"But during those first two thousand years of my existence I was much more concerned with overthrowing the Romanians and establishing my coven as the new, highest supernatural power in the world, than anything as frivolous as _romance_."

Aro tossed his hand in the air in a careless gesture. And he practically spat the word _romance_ out of his mouth, like it was something particularly foul.

But afterwards, Aro's disgusted expression immediately softened. And he settled his hands adoringly over my wrists to let me know that his perspective had changed radically since then.

I blushed again at the affectionate contact. _Radically changed, indeed,_ I thought, as I considered how utterly smitten the vampire beside me was now.

After a moment, Aro lifted away from my skin and nervously rubbed his hands together. "For those two thousand years I was so… _embroiled_ in my own schemes that I would never truly surrender my heart to anyone," he gave as his justification for going through with the risky behavior anyway.

"Even if the person in question were to surrender completely to me, I knew I would not reciprocate," Aro announced with a bitter confidence.

His tone relayed the absolute assurance he'd had back then that his heart was impenetrable. But he grimaced ever so slightly at the end of his words, as though his own callous, calculative approach from that time unnerved him now.

"And therefore, I was safe," Aro announced. "Or so that was my thinking at the time," he quickly amended.

I nodded numbly to let Aro know that, at least logically, I understood his reasoning. But my toes wrinkled uneasily inside my socks. And I shivered at the thought of anyone being so _cold_ , as to be certain that another's romantic feelings would have absolutely no effect on them. It was obvious Aro felt and acted vastly differently now... but sill...

"I was not, as my detractors insisted, completely heartless," Aro felt obligated to assure me. "As a gentleman, I determined that it was only polite to inform every person I propositioned of exactly the nature of relationship I was expecting. That is, a relationship that was amicable, and perhaps passionate, when the mood struck me, but never deeply romantic or permanent."

 _He told them all this? Right from the start?_ I marveled. _Wouldn't that frighten some of them away?_

"A significant portion of them did not believe me. Or rather, naively believed that I could be persuaded to change my mind," Aro admitted with a light chuckle. "However, my lovers were free to break off the arrangement whenever they wished," he added, to help convince me that, even a thousand years ago, he hadn't been the sort of man to use his clout to trap anyone in an undesirable position.

"And I took great care to ensure that each and every one who accepted my terms was happy for as long as we were together," Aro continued with a small smile on his lips, as though, despite the transitory nature of these relationships, and the fact that he'd never invested his whole self into them, they were pleasant memories.

"And those that did not accept, I never pressured or punished."

A breath I hadn't known I'd been holding escaped my lips as I realized that, even Aro's younger, more power-hungry-self had valued the concept of informed consent. Deception and coercion were never healthy in any type or relationship. And the green-eyed monster inside me was oddly quelled by the idea that Aro had really cared about each of his former lovers as real people, and not just toys for sexual gratification.

"Who?" I blurted out without thinking. I wasn't jealous anymore, just curious.

To my surprise, Aro didn't seem to mind my intrusive question. He smiled and delicately encased my hands in his own. "You most certainly would not know them, my dear," he assured me. "All of them left Volterra centuries ago. Theia, Penelope, Adalina…" he started to list. "They would be only names to you," he supplied as his justification for not finishing, what I got the sense was a _very long_ collection of previous lovers. "Though, I consider them all unique and precious friends."

 _Friends._ I guessed it wasn't too weird for Aro to still be friends with his former lovers. Aside from the fact that they occasionally had sex, that's what his previous relationships sounded like to me anyway. And the fact that he was still on good terms with most, if not all, of his former paramours was also another evidence of the fact that Aro saw them as real, complex and multi-faceted people.

Which I figured was a good sign.

It wouldn't do to fall into the trap of loving someone who was, in reality, only interested in what my body could offer. Again.

"How many?" I couldn't help but ask.

I'd only had one really serious boyfriend in my life, (who had become my husband) and, since I was considering instigating some kind of relationship with him, I was curious to know how much more experienced than I Aro really was.

 _How many lovers had Aro had? 20? 200? Over a thousand? Tens of thousands? Millions?_

Aro's face fell as he heard this inquiry. Another heavy sigh escaped his immortal lungs before he reluctantly obliged me. "Including Sulpicia, two-hundred and fifty seven," he murmured in a voice that was just above a whisper, as though he was deeply embarrassed by the number, and didn't want anyone else to hear it.

I didn't have enough training in vampire sexual norms to really know if that was an exceptionally high or an exceptionally low number, given Aro's age. But given that I knew of _humans_ whose numbers were a _lot_ higher—Mick Jagger and Hugh Hefner, despite their mortality, were well into the _thousands_ in terms of how many people they'd slept with. And so the fact that Aro's number was only three digits actually surprised me a bit.

To my mortification, however, I actually said as much out-loud, without even thinking about it.

Aro's eyes widened to the size of golf-balls at my assertion that 257 was smaller than I'd been expecting. "Truly? My history does not appall you?" he asked with the same sudden, fierce desperation he'd had in his eyes when he'd asked if I would agree to date him.

"Well… you _are_ three-thousand…" I repeated his own words back to him while chewing on my own lips nervously.

"So is Caius," Aro rebutted with a minorly offended scoff. "And his number is _nine_ ," he told me with a jealous sneer, as though a part of him wished that he too could boast of a single digit. If for no other reason than it might intimidate me less.

But Aro really didn't need to worry about scaring me off with some number. Yes, the idea of Aro having over a hundred times more sexual experience than me was a daunting concept—but no more daunting than any of the other various obstacles in our relationship. I was reasonably certain that our differing stances on _human murder_ were going to be a significantly bigger hurdle.

And, given how much of a doting gentleman he was now, and how honest he'd apparently been with all of his previous lovers, I wasn't particularly worried that, if the two of us did decide to get serious sometime in the distant future, that Aro would suddenly run off with someone else. That wasn't how the ancient vampire operated. Even if Aro had been, by his own admission, more interested in power than romance, given the relatively small size of the number, and because he'd promised me that he'd done everything in his power to ensure that his lovers were happy, I doubted he'd ever had multiple lovers at the same time. Or any meaningless, one-night stands.

Cheating and/or being a playboy wasn't his style.

So I wasn't worried at all. In fact, knowing all these facts about Aro's love life only made me feel a lot better about potentially dating the man. Even if we tried and something between us didn't work out, I had a reasonable assurance now that Aro would be affectionate and loyal all along the way.

"You're a _lot_ nicer than Caius," I countered to make it clear that I thought Aro's personality was a lot more important than any number.

Aro beamed under my praise, and splayed an alabaster hand over his heart, as though my kind words deeply touched him.

I definitely would have smiled back, had I been paying enough attention. But I was too caught up in my own, fearful memories of my brief encounter with Caius, to concentrate on anything else.

Violent shudders ran through me as my vivid imagination conjured up the image of Caius—cruel, conniving, sadistic—in bed with some nondescript vampire female. I knew it was foolish to compare my experience of being sentenced to death for being a liability, and the Denali sisters' experience of nearly dying by his hands for a crime they didn't commit, to what the vampire did with his lovers. For all I knew, the white-haired vampire could be a completely different person in the privacy of his bedroom.

Gentle. Considerate. Loving.

But I just couldn't picture it.

"I _pity_ those nine," I told Aro in a terrified voice.

A hearty laugh started deep in Aro's chest. It bubbled up in his throat, like a geyser preparing to erupt. And it escaped his mouth as a full-on guffaw.

"What's so funny?" I asked, bewildered by Aro's humorous reaction to something I frankly found horrifying.

"It is… simply hilarious that you deem gracing Caius' bed to be such an unpleasant experience that you feel _sorry_ for anyone who has had to endure it." he said, his eyes almost teary with venom from laughing so hard. "Do you really suppose he is that incompetent?"

I blanched for a moment as I realized that Aro had interpreted my statement in an entirely different way than I'd intended. I pitied Caius' current, and former lovers because I assumed he would be cruel to them. But Aro seemed to think I pitied them because I believed Caius' sexual performance was... er... _lackluster_.

"I can assure you, he is not terrible enough to warrant pity…" Aro drawled with a mischievous grin.

 _Not terrible enough to warrant pity._ I tried not to dwell on how Aro had obtained that information. The idea that he was probably privy to all of the white-haired vampire's sexual thoughts and memories, because of his gift, wasn't exactly easy on my stomach.

Instead I just shrugged, and tried to direct the conversation back onto its original course. "Anyway, you were saying… about you and Sulpicia?"

"Ah yes," Aro recalled, rapidly coming back to the present. "As I was saying, my detractors saw my lack of a mate in the 6th century as an indication that I was unfit to rule."

Aro scoffed, as though those who dared to question his authority back then were complete fools.

Once again, I had to agree. Based on the brief history lesson Carlisle had given me about the Volturi, on one of the nights before my wedding, I knew that they'd been completely ruthless their first hundred years in power, in order to fully establish their authority. So any that dared to challenge them were destined to lose.

And die. Violently.

"Several immortals implied that if I could not even manage to win the heart of one vampire, then it was foolhardy in the extreme to expect that I could hold any power over the whole world of them," Aro explained as his opponents' reasoning.

I felt like Aro's detractors had been overlooking something big, however. "Didn't they know you had lovers…?" I asked.

"Of course," Aro said with a wry smile, as though it was nigh impossible to keep any relationships secret from the vampire rumor mill. "Being a lover of mine was, in the mind of many, a highly coveted position," he explained with twinge of pride in his voice. "But if anything, the fact that I'd had so many, and yet never surrendered myself to any of them only made me more suspicious."

 _Oh. I suppose that makes sense,_ I decided. Given how Aro had mentioned that some vampires mated on accident in the heat of the moment, I could see the fact that Aro was somehow impervious to those flights of fancy, might strike other immortals as hinting at a deeper issue.

However, knowing the man a little bit myself now, I wouldn't suppose that incubism was the reason. Based on Aro's description of the mating ritual, I gathered that a couple had to be completely vulnerable with one another, and entirely let go of all control, in order for it to work out. But, from what I'd already seen, it was obvious to me that Aro didn't like the level of vulnerability and uncertainty that would require one bit. They weren't his native element at all.

When Aro had confessed his feelings to me, his entire body had radiated fear—an intense fear of my rejection. A fear of something that could potentially devastate him, and yet was completely out of his control.

And, having some awareness of his past bestowed on me from Carlisle, I knew that those same fears had driven him to create and enforce the laws of the Volturi in the first place. That when Aro saw that the supernatural world ran amuck, mostly unchecked, he was not comfortable in the slightest with the anarchy and potentially unsafe future that situation created. And so, in order to quell his fears, and, ultimately, to make the world a safer place, he seized control.

I wasn't sure whether I should laugh or cry at the irony that, contrary to his detractor's assumptions, the thing about Aro that made it difficult for him to mate (fear of the unknown), was the exact same thing that made him such an effective leader. Aro's compulsive need to know every variable, and have as much dominion over the outcome as possible, made it so that his organization never overlooked even the tiniest detail. Carlisle had once told me that the Volturi actually paid a lot of attention to current world events and human news stations, because war zones and cities experiencing violent crime hikes were often hotbeds of vampire misbehavior. Which was something I was certain Aro wouldn't do if he were the type that was more comfortable with the unexpected.

And as I mulled all of this over, suddenly Aro's lack of a mate for those first two-thousand years made a whole lot more sense.

It wasn't because the ancient was heartless.

It was because he was _scared_.

Scared of the vulnerabilities and unknowns that being in a romantic relationship inevitably entailed.

I felt a rush of electricity in my veins as I realized however, that, Aro was willing to allow both of those things around me. That my child was an enormous unknown—a potentially terrifying uncertainty—which he allowed to exist with remarkable grace. And that he was strangely quite willing, if still a bit paranoid that the outcome might be bad, to divulge so much of himself and to place himself at my mercy.

Both of these things were huge testaments to how much Aro really had changed over the millennia.

And how much I really meant to him.

My cheeks grew dark red as I realized that, once again, Aro's feelings for me were already deeper than I'd ever supposed. I'd already known that he wanted to pursue a serious relationship with me, and that, optimistically, he hoped that we might end up something like what Esme and Carlisle were, sometime in the distant future. But it hadn't really sunk in until now just how much of a leap that was for Aro.

To be pursuing me like a potential mate, rather than a temporary lover—which I was certain was what Aro was doing, given that I'd never been given the caveat speech he'd delivered to all the others—was a huge deal. In order for him to bypass his intense reservations against vulnerability, and fears of the unknown, Aro must want me _very badly_.

Aro chuckled, bringing me abruptly back to the present, before he continued with his story. "At first I laughed at those who dared to mock me, and continued to do as I pleased." He grinned, his teeth white and merciless. Then his voice rapidly turned serious. "However, once the rumors that my lack of a mate was due to a deficiency like incubism started to spread, I quickly realized that something needed to be done."

"As it turns out, very few vampires wanted to bow to an authority they suspected had a penchant for 'playing with their food'," Aro explained, making a nauseated expression. "As the rumors got worse—claiming, at their height, that I took immortal lovers as a ruse, and had a massive harem of humans hidden in our fortress that I alternately fed on and slept with indiscriminately—the number of crimes we had to punish rose with them," he indicated, raising one hand as if to visually display the uptick in unruly behavior on a bar graph.

"Vampires were disobeying the law against hunting in Volterra simply as an excuse to visit, so that they could revile my name to my face," he breathed out in exasperation.

I paled at the idea of anyone purposefully antagonizing the Volturi. I doubted that Aro's guard would have been any more merciful towards criminals then than they were now.

But for some odd reason I felt even worse for Aro than for the hundreds of idiotic vampires who'd dared to test the Volturi's resolve. Sure, they'd died. But they'd sort of deserved it. And it must have been horrid for Aro to deal with so many vampires threatening the secrecy of their entire kind over some salacious rumors.

Aro heaved an embarrassed sigh and buried his head in one hand. "It was a _disaster_."

"So what happened? Did Marcus really drive them all out?" I asked, recalling the ironic festival that was being celebrated in Volterra the first time Aro and I had met. The festival that dubbed the depressed ancient a saint for expunging the town of vampires. Despite the fact that at least thirty or so remained living in the city's labyrinthine underground.

Aro snorted, as though my assumption was totally hilarious. "He was instrumental in spreading the news that did the trick, but he did not physically drive them out."

I too snorted as I tried to envision the morose, elder vampire physically driving anyone anywhere. He was so devoid of life when I'd last seen him, it was hard to picture him having enough motivation to drive off even an insect that decided to take up residence on his person, let alone a whole cadre of furious, thirsty vampires.

"Ultimately, after a short century of being in power," Aro continued with a small frown, "I decided it was imperative that I quell the rumors about myself being an incubus by making it _appear_ as though I took a mate."

I blinked in stupefaction at this pronouncement. "You… _faked_ having a mate?"

Somewhat remorsefully, Aro nodded. "Nothing else besides my being mated would appease the rumors," he supplied as his justification for the deception. Though, based on the hearty sigh that followed, I surmised that even he recognized that rationale was weak at best.

"Since, at the time, I had no desire to have a mate in the true sense," Aro acknowledged. "...and I had doubly no desire to deal with a vampire using the false position as a power ploy," he contributed with a uncomfortable quiver. "...I selected a human who seemed unlikely to derail my ambitions, then transformed her to fill the position."

"You… _selected_ a human?" His description sounded so cold. Like he was trying to hire a dutiful employee, rather than choose a spouse or even a lover.

Again, Aro reluctantly nodded. "Yes."

"A _human_?" I repeated, emphasizing a new facet of that astonishing announcement that had me puzzled.

Certainly Aro had explained that choosing a vampire could entail politics he didn't want to deal with. And that he hadn't done anything with this mysterious woman until she'd been transformed, but still… _Wasn't picking a human, when one was being accused of being an incubus, a suspicious move?_

Aro exhaled in exasperation before he explained. "I deliberated about the decision for a long time," he shared with his thumbs twiddling nervously in his lap. "I could not risk whoever I chose running off prematurely. For if my 'mate' were to abandon me, I would lose any shred of credibility I still had left," he revealed with a pained look in his crimson eyes that suggested that he'd felt totally trapped at that time.

A surge of pity washed through me as I tried to place myself in his shoes. He'd really only had two options—continue to fight off nasty rumors and hordes of disapproving vampires for at least another thousand years—or project a false image of matehood in order to establish peace. Given the number of deaths, both human and vampire, that had been prevented as a result of Aro's decision, I couldn't really blame him for choosing the latter.

"It was imperative that I select someone who was dependent on me, so as to _discourage_ them from leaving." Aro winced as he said _discourage_ , as though he felt a stab of guilt for having to coerce anyone into staying in what might be an unhappy relationship. "And since newborns are often quite reliant on their makers for the first few years, at least, I imagined having one as a 'mate' would work out quite well, in that regard," he said logically.

Though once he was finished, Aro looked away, his eyes shining with deep remorse. "It was… underhanded of me… to exploit Sulpicia's humanity that way…"

"Wait… this is _Sulpicia_ , you're talking about?"

 _She was the human Aro selected to be his fake mate?_ I thought, puzzled. _Didn't he say he attempted to make her his_ _ **actual**_ _mate, at some point? Did that happen later?_ I wondered.

Glumly, Aro nodded. "In the beginning, she was the perfect candidate." He grimaced in what looked like shame for his reprehensible actions. "Pretty, demure, undemanding…" he listed in an emotionless, academic tone that told me he'd chosen her for entirely logical reasons, without a shred of heart in mind.

"And most importantly she was actually thrilled with the prospect of receiving all the perks of having a rich and powerful 'husband', without the _obligations._ "

Once again, Aro's words were getting a little too oblique for me to follow. "Obligations?"

"When I first approached her, I only asked that Sulpicia look the part," Aro clarified. "At the time I had no intention of ever being sexually intimate with her," he exposed in another surprising bout of total honesty. "The potential for her to become dissatisfied, should she want to actually mate, and I not reciprocate, was too high."

I chewed my lip nervously as I processed this.

"I chose her, a conventionally beautiful woman, because I wanted my apparent choice to be believable to the rest of the world, not because I possessed any desire for her," Aro expounded. "But from the beginning, I was very adamant that she owed me nothing physically," he was quick to assure me. "And, initially, she was very happy with that arrangement."

My brow scrunched in confusion as I suddenly realized that something was missing from Aro's story. "But if you never… _actually had sex with_ Sulpicia then how—?"

Aro cut me off before I could finish. "Whenever we made a public appearance, I made sure that we were lathered in each other's venom so it would smell like we were mates," he revealed with a somewhat sheepish expression. "My guard knew of our trick. But the rest of the world bought the lie," he said with a shrug, as though even now, he was surprised that it had worked. "And at once, the crimes plummeted as the world accepted the truth that I am no incubus."

I nodded to indicate that I understood Aro's story. Nevertheless, I was still a little puzzled by one thing the blond doctor had mentioned that night. "But you said that you tried to mate with her? And Carlisle said you claimed to love her? If Sulpicia was your mate in name only—? "

Aro held up a single palm to halt my barrage of questions.

Immediately I clamped my mouth shut to hear his response. He had said this was a long story, after all.

"By the time Carlisle visited me in Volterra," Aro started to explain, in answer to my question, "Sulpicia's enthusiasm for being a mate in name only, had waned," he informed me with a sour frown. "By the 1700s, she wanted more than I was willing to offer," he told me with two hands raised in rejection of her unwanted advances.

"On multiple occasions she tried to _seduce_ me," Aro went on, sounding unnerved. "She was convinced that as a man, eventually I would cave to her feminine charms."

Aro rolled his eyes, as though the idea that he would cave to her pithy attempts at seduction was positively ludicrous.

"Didn't you already have..." I struggled to find the appropriate word. One that wasn't too judgmental. "...a _mistress..._ " I settled on at last. It was the technical term, after all. "...for those sorts of things?"

Aro shook his head. "I had no mistress," he explicitly clarified. "For appearance's sake, I hadn't taken another lover since Sulpicia and I had 'mated'," he explained as his reason for temporary abstinence. "And therefore, Sulpicia was certain that her rather _gauche_ attempts would sway me, in the absence of any other outlets."

His face looked pinched as he said the word _gauche_ as though he was more scandalized by the reactions of those who'd been unfortunate to witness Sulpicia's attempts, then by the attempts themselves.

At once, I wondered what kind of things the formerly quiet and demure woman had done to try and entice Aro into her bed. _Had she employed the use of lingerie, like I had with Edward? Did Aro think_ ** _that_** _was gauche?_ I worried, since that was pretty much the only seduction tactic in my arsenal. _Or were her attempts much more tasteless? And potentially… public?_ I considered with lewd curiosity.

Aro went on, oblivious to my titillating wonderings. "Carlisle, who, like all the rest of my visitors, I'd told Sulpicia was my mate, was just as baffled by my reluctance to 'know her' in the biblical sense as I was by his reluctance to drink human blood," he told me.

Aro sighed. "While Carlisle insisted that he wanted to wait to indulge in _that_ particular pleasure until he was legally married, he found it unthinkable that I was 'married' as far as the vampire world was concerned, and yet staunchly refused to consummate that marriage."

 _I could see how Carlisle might feel that way._

Suddenly, Aro laughed as he recalled something hilarious. "For a short time, Carlisle even tried to aid my 'wife' in seducing me."

I too couldn't help but giggle at the idea of _Carlisle,_ of all people—especially at a time where he was still a virgin—assisting a woman in "scoring" with his friend. Urging Aro to take advantage of his marital status was the weirdest way to be a wingman. Not to mention that, due to Carlisle' lack of personal experience, he probably had some bizarre ideas about what might get Aro turned on.

"And in retaliation, I enlisted my guard to try to seduce him into drinking human blood," Aro purred in a devious, chocolaty voice.

I gasped at this. _Carlisle never told me that the temptation was mutual!_ I thought, scandalized by the secrecy.

At least until I realized that it was a rather odd topic to bring up. _While I was in Volterra, as a good male friend, I tried to get Aro laid_ , wasn't exactly something the doctor was going to admit to me.

But still… the fact that Aro had only ordered his guard to deposit bleeding humans in Carlisle's presence as long as Carlisle aided Sulpicia's banal attempts to bed Aro, shed a new light on their relationship. For the longest time I'd assumed that Aro was merely callous—that he had absolutely no respect for Carlisle's decision to hunt animals.

But it appeared that I'd been wrong.

Certainly Aro had worried in the beginning that animal blood was unhealthy, and no doubt tried to persuade his friend with his silver-tongued words that he ought to hunt humans instead. However, it made a lot more sense, given what I now knew of Aro's general respect for other people's autonomy, that Aro hadn't started to make Carlisle uncomfortable on purpose, until Carlisle effectively did the same to him.

I wondered if Aro had hoped that Carlisle would be so appalled by the corpses being delivered to the library while he was studying that he would stop helping Sulpicia. Whatever Aro had hoped to accomplish, it obviously hadn't worked.

"We tried persuading the other to no end. But as you know, eventually Carlisle couldn't abide the pressure any longer," Aro reminisced with a somber frown. "Despite the fact that he cherished having me as an intellectual companion."

"He left," I recalled aloud.

Aro nodded glumly. "Yes."

"And Sulpicia?" I asked.

Aro steepled his fingers in front of his chest. "Once Carlisle was gone, I attempted to have a proper marriage to her."

I gasped once more. _He changed his mind? So soon?_

"I felt it was only fair, after asking so much of her," he told me with an exasperated sigh, as though his decision was prompted more by a desire to get Sulpicia to finally stop nagging him than anything else.

My pink lips slowly shut and turned down at the corners as I struggled to comprehend the ancient's reasons behind his complete one-eighty on the matter.

Instigating intimate connections that were, what I guessed was the vampire equivalent of friends-with-benefits, was one thing.

But a relationship prompted purely by _annoyance_ , or at best, _obligation_ , didn't sound particularly healthy.

"Over the years, I _had_ grown quite fond of her," Aro chipped in, to make sure that I didn't get the wrong idea. "I was not lying when I wrote to Carlisle telling him that I loved her. I did, in a peculiar way," he told me with a warm smile gracing his perfect lips. Though it was obvious from his voice that he spoke of her more like a friend or even a sister than a romantic partner.

"But it wasn't a happy arrangement for us," Aro admitted suddenly with a deep frown. "A short year later, I let her go."

My dark eyebrows lifted at this. "Let her go?"

"I rescinded our contract, and allowed her to leave Volterra in order to choose a proper mate," Aro clarified in a resolute tone.

I was astonished by how accommodating Aro was all of a sudden. _Hadn't he made her promise to pretend to be his mate indefinitely? And he was… just going to let her go after it didn't work out? Couldn't that threaten his reputation very badly, since mates were supposed to be for life?_ I reasoned internally.

 _Did Carlisle leaving really impact him that much?_ I wondered, given that Aro had listed the blond's departure as his reason for even entertaining Sulpicia in the first place. _Or was it Aro's guilt—the guilt he felt for not being able to give Sulpicia the love she deserved—that convinced him to let her go?_

"And a few centuries after she left, Sulpicia did exactly that," Aro unexpectedly revealed, a proud, almost fatherly grin stretching his cheeks.

My insatiable curiosity gnawed at me again. "Who?" I had to ask.

Aro's grin grew even wider before he dropped the name of Sulpicia's mate. "Jonathan."

I could hardly believe my ears. " _Carlisle's_ Jonathan?" I demanded.

 _Certainly he had to be talking about someone else. I mean, Jonathan is a very popular name—_

"The very same," Aro confirmed to my utter disbelief.

"But he's in Canada!" I contested.

"And so is Sulpicia," Aro stated matter-of-factly.

I blinked in shock. For some reason when Aro said he'd allowed Sulpicia to leave Volterra I'd assumed she'd remained in Italy. Or at least somewhere in Europe. The idea that anyone who had once had an intimate connection with the Volturi leader was here on the North American continent was mind-boggling.

"And the rest of the world is just… cool with that?" I found a hard time believing that Aro's reputation as not-an-incubus was going to stay intact if word got out that his supposed "mate" had mated with another vampire in Canada.

Aro firmly shook his head to suggest that my assumptions were way off base. "They haven't the slightest inkling," he informed me. "I still receive shipments of her venom, so my scent has not changed," he said, gesturing toward his pulse points where he presumably applied the substance like a perfume. "And any who saw Sulpicia in Volterra would not recognize her now. She looks and acts completely different," he supplied to let me know why her identity had not been found out by the vicious vampire rumor mill.

"Sulpicia took a new name, and cut her hair in order to live with the love of her life," Aro explicated, to show just how far the woman was willing to go to live undisturbed with her mate. "And no vampire has any reason to associate her new identity 'Sarah', Jonathan's mate, with Sulpicia," he went on. "While she used to be silent, sad and demure, she's bold, vivacious and splendidly happy now."

Aro's lips spread in a paternal smile. He seemed genuinely pleased that she had found happiness.

"So, where do they think Sulpicia is?" I asked.

Aro had to have _some_ excuse for why she was never seen by visitors at the Volturi fortress anymore.

"The world at large presumes my Sulpicia is locked in a tower."

"What?!" I shrieked, appalled by the idea of Aro keeping anyone, especially someone he was supposed to love, holed up like that. It sounded positively barbaric. "Why would they think that?"

"Because that is where Caius keeps his mate," Aro ground out in a low growl, suggesting his extreme distaste with the practice. "And they have not seen Sulpicia in hundreds of years. Or heard an announcement of her death. So logically, that is where she must be, in their minds."

I blinked in stupefaction. The idea that a Volturi leader's wife's place was to be ensconced away somewhere in a lonely tower, was totally primeval. For goodness sake, the Greeks had treated their wives better than that! And they weren't exactly known for being progressive!

Another surge of pity coursed through my body for the nine unfortunate people that Caius had taken as lovers. If that was how he treated his _mate_ —the one he'd managed to give his whole self to somehow—I trembled to think of how he'd treated the other eight.

I shook my head to banish those grisly thoughts. There were more important things to focus on. "And… you never thought to tell Carlisle that you and Sulpicia broke it off, because…?"

"How was I supposed to tell him?" Aro demanded, abruptly sounding broken, like the reality that he hadn't been able to share this knowledge with one of his most cherished friends tore him up inside. "Any letter I might have sent could always be intercepted. And even if I were to tell him on the phone, or in person… if word were to get out that she…" he trailed off, his hands flailing helplessly around him.

But he didn't need to finish his sentence anyway. I got the gist.

 _Oh. Right. If anyone else were to come across a letter—one which revealed that Aro's matehood with Sulpicia was all a sham—or if anyone were to hear about it through the grapevine, that would be disastrous for Aro's reputation._

A disturbing epiphany suddenly occurred to me as I processed just how far Aro was willing to go to preserve the charade of being mated. "There hasn't been anyone else, after Sulpicia left, has there?"

It wasn't really a question. Since he'd apparently remained abstinent for the duration of his relationship with Sulpicia—which I'd surmised was almost a thousand years—in order to keep up appearances, I doubted he'd done anything since. He'd certainly demonstrated that he possessed enough restraint. Though there was always the possibility that he'd merely been extremely discreet…

"Not like before. Not formally…" Aro told me with a downcast expression. "The last seven, from the number I gave you before, were, rather _clandestine_ affairs…"

His words brought another horrible realization to my mind, which prompted me to ask, "What do you plan to tell the world... about me?"

My heart sank at the idea of being in a relationship that had to fly completely under everyone's radar—to essentially be his secret mistress. The notion of having to conceal my feelings, if they ever did grow to that point made my stomach twist into complicated knots.

But, since Aro, in the eyes of the rest of the supernatural community, already had a mate, if we were to become something serious, he didn't really have the option to go public...

Before Aro could even begin to answer, suddenly, another disturbing thought occurred to me. "No one else, besides me, Carlisle, Esme, and Renata, knows that you like me, do they?"

"I have not explicitly told anyone else, no."

Aro looked down at our hands in shame for not being willing to more openly broadcast his affections, given the lie he had to preserve to maintain his good reputation.

"Though, shortly before I left to search you out..." Aro pulled his hands away from mine to wring them in discomfort. "...the members of my guard uncovered the truth for themselves…"

I bristled as I imagined certain members of the guard uncovering this piece of information. Marcus, I knew wouldn't care one whit. But I could imagine that others would be much less pleased with discovering that their master harbored deep affections for another vampire's human lover.

"How did they… react?" I fearfully asked.

"Poorly," Aro revealed with a heavy sigh. "Renata, of course…" he gestured to his subordinate, who was still standing perfectly still, and staring unblinkingly out the window, "….had no objections. Her only concerns are with my safety and happiness."

I swallowed as I realized the implications of him singling her out. "But the others…?"

"A few expressed their support," he weakly contributed. But the wavering timbre of his voice already told me that they were paltry in number. And even less in power. "But Caius, and the rest, were furious."

"Because I'm human? Because I'm a liability?" I asked, repeating the white-haired vampire's icy words.

Aro shook his head. "Caius knows that I would insist upon your transformation before I did anything physical with you," he replied with absolute certainty. "No, he and the others were furious because my feelings for you led me to make some very poor decisions."

I leaned forward on the edge of my seat as I heard his serious words. _Poor decisions? Aro's crush on me had made him... mess up?_

"We lost Chelsea because I was too busy making travel arrangements to prevent your wedding to realize that the Romanian brothers were planning an ambush."

Aro buried his head in his hands. His crimson eyes glossed over. And his shoulders quivered for a moment, traumatized with the knowledge that he'd been so careless. Evidently it stung to know it was his fault that the woman who served as the lynchpin in his organization had died.

"I sent her right into their trap," Aro moaned.

My blood ran cold at Aro's words. "Chelsea is _dead_?"

I didn't really want to rub it in. But based on what I'd been told about her function in the guard, I knew that her absence would be totally devastating. Chelsea's power was to manipulate relationships, which she used to ensure that, whatever conflicts might between individual guard members, they still remained loyal to the organization at large.

Carlisle had been very adamant that her part was vital. Without the influence of her gift, the Volturi wouldn't be able to weather the conflicts that would inevitably arise in a coven of that size. Without Chelsea forcing the group to prioritize unity, the Volturi would be torn apart over petty disagreements.

And knowing how negatively the majority of the guard had reacted to Chelsea's death, I feared they might already have.

"Is the Volturi still… _functional_ without her?" I worriedly asked, figuring that the safety of the entire supernatural world depended on it, and therefore Aro's beleaguered feelings were secondary right now.

Aro's elegant eyebrows lifted in shock at my words. But he didn't say anything. Abruptly, he seemed to have turned to stone. He sat frozen solid in his seat and stared down into his hands with a lifeless expression that screamed, _What have I done?_

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Renata's shoulders stiffen in fear the same way they had when Aro had mentioned yesterday that Carlisle was "like a brother to him."

Apparently, I was on to something.

And it _definitely_ wasn't good.

 _Was this what Carlisle was really worried about?_ I suddenly panicked, remembering how apprehensive the doctor had been when he'd talked to Aro over the phone. _That Aro would actually lapse so poorly in his role among the Volturi because of his feelings for me that he would accidentally cause the entire organization to fall apart?_

I swallowed guiltily as I realized the other half of the equation. _Was I inadvertently responsible for the crumbling of a great, if somewhat ruthless, force for order and good?_

Desperate for an answer—hopefully one that I was hopelessly off base, and that the Volturi were _fine_ , thank you very much—I tried nudging Aro back into consciousness.

But no matter how much I prodded his arms, the man didn't move an inch. He didn't even blink, as I started to push with a lot more firmness. Nor did he breathe as he stared hopelessly down at his pale fingers, as if imploring them to somehow resurrect the deceased and right all of his previous wrongs.

As I continued my futile attempts to rouse Aro, another alarming epiphany struck me.

 _Was it one of the members of the Volturi who'd been the first angry caller? The person to call before Renata had called to ask us to pick her up? The one Aro had lied and told me was a telemarketer?_ I fearfully considered.

 _Was_ ** _this_** _why Aro was so nervous to answer the phone lately? Why he told us that first time that he "had trouble trusting many as of late"?_ I suddenly realized was the very sensible corollary to that thought.

 _Were the other Volturi looking for Aro?_ I wondered. _Is that what Renata's doing at the window? Trying to dispel them?_

It all made too much sense.

My son tumbled around inside me, not injuriously, but uneasily just the same, as he registered my tumultuous feelings. This was all so much to take in. And if my predictions weren't false…

Rapidly, I turned in my seat to face Aro. To implore him to tell me if any of my dark musing were even remotely true.

But before I could get out a single word, Renata unexpectedly moved again. At first, she was only dark blur in the corner of my vision. Until suddenly she appeared directly in front of Aro. And held out a hand towards him expectantly, wishing for him to take it.

With only a moment's hesitation, Aro broke out of his rocky reverie, and reached out to clasp her hand. His smooth eyelids fluttered shut for a moment as he processed a lifetime's worth of thoughts emanating from the petite vampire's inscrutable (to me, anyway) mind. And then, just as suddenly as they'd shut, his crimson eyes flew open in shock.

"Divert him," Aro abruptly commanded his subordinate with no other context.

"Master, I have already tried, but this one is persistent," she explained, frightened. "Eventually, he will wear me down," she explained with a panicked tremor racking her petite frame. "If you command it, I will try. But I cannot constantly be working to keep him away for four consecutive days…"

Renata gave a shaky bow to apologize for her inability to completely fulfill Aro's wishes, due to the limitations of her gift.

But Aro didn't seem surprised or upset that Renata's power had such finite limits. "Hmm. You are right," he hummed in acknowledgment.

"Wait, what are you guys talking about?" I demanded in a harried voice.

 _Was Caius here?_ came my first, terrified thought. _Was he coming here to exact revenge on Aro for Chelsea's death?_

I wasn't exactly sure how close the two immortals had been. But I knew that Caius was the unforgiving type and had a pretty insatiable thirst for violence.

To my surprise it was Renata who answered my question. "Your friend, the shape-shifter," she began in a low, calmer voice, in an attempt to soothe my frazzled nerves. "He is trying to come here."

" _Jacob_?"

He was the last person I'd been expecting to get involved in this mess.


	15. Chapter 15: Disturbances

**AN: Went back and fixed some pronouns in the previous chapter. A kind reviewer pointed out that I'd basically painted Aro as 100% straight... which is not necessarily how I see him. I don't plan for his bisexuality to be an excessive topic in this story... but I feel better about being more inclusive.**

* * *

 _I will prevent disease whenever I can,_

 _for prevention is preferable to cure_

 _(Modern Version of the Hippocratic Oath)_

…

CHAPTER 15: DISTURBANCES

 _Renata was trying to divert_ _ **Jacob**_ _?!_ I panicked.

"But Jacob has no clue I'm here!" I protested at the petite vampire standing in front of me. "I'm supposed to be in Switzerland!" I cried from my position on the couch, referencing the lie I'd told Charlie—which he'd no doubt passed on to Jacob at some point.

Renata slowly and gracefully shook her head. "He does not buy your lies," she explained in the same, relatively even tone as before. Though her true nervousness shone through in her quaking fingers. "I cannot know his exact thoughts, but I can sense his intent," she told me with a visible cringe, suggesting that his intent was _not good._

I held my breath as I waited for the cloaked vampire to elaborate.

"He approaches this house both searching for you, and in violent anger," Renata revealed, shaking again under the force of Jacob's rage. Her shimmery red eyes sought out her master, and begged him to do or say something to alleviate the stress she felt.

But Aro, unfortunately, had resumed his previous task of imitating a renaissance statue.

A surge of pity for the girl washed through me again. But I tried to push past it, given how dire the situation was. "Why?" I asked.

"The anger is directed towards the incubus," Renata clarified, still refusing, for some unknown reason, to use anyone's names. "That is all I know," she admitted with a helpless shrug and apologetic eyes.

I patted her arm to let her know that she'd done a good job and had no reason to feel sorry for things outside of her control. Otherwise, I got the sense that she might beat herself up for them.

"Edward isn't here, though," I mused aloud, staring at the carpet. "But if Jacob heard what I told Charlie, and he doesn't buy the lie that I'm sick…. He must think…"

Well, at first I wasn't sure what Jacob had in mind. I spent the next few minutes wracking my brain for clues, straining to recall that simpler time, before this whole hybrid-pregnancy fiasco, when Jacob and I had last spoke. So much had happened since then, it almost seemed like another century. _What had we been talking about?_

A tremor of anxiety shot through me as I suddenly remembered that the last time we'd spoken was shortly after the wedding. It was a discussion had not ended on the best foot. Jacob had been absolutely furious that Edward and I were planning on having a "real honeymoon", given how dangerous that was.

 _Oh._

Instantly everything clicked.

"He must think I'm hurt. That Edward hurt me on our honeymoon." It was the only logical reason I could see why Jacob thought coming here and ripping Edward apart was a good idea.

Renata raised two forbidding palms, her face wrinkled in disgust. "Spare me the details," she pleaded flatly.

I was about to assure Renata that I wasn't planning on sharing any more details, when suddenly Aro unfroze for a second to remind his subordinate of her manners. "Now Renata," he chided in a fatherly tone, before he resumed his statuesque behavior.

"My apologies, Master," Renata replied with a stiff bow.

"It's fine," I reassured her.

Her unwillingness to listen to the particulars of my sexual life didn't offend me. Had I been in her position, I might have made the same request.

"But if Jacob think's I'm hurt," I said, going back to my previous thoughts. "I need to let him know that I'm okay."

My heart twisted inside my chest at the thought that Jacob believed, like Aro first had, that I'd been grievously injured in the midst of my honeymoon. As awkward as our relationship had become during the last few months before I'd married Edward, I still considered Jacob a good friend. And I was devastated by the notion that he might think me maimed, or worse…

"I do not think… that is wise," Renata reluctantly advised, looking pointedly at my belly. "The knowledge that the incubus has impregnated you may only enrage him further," she gave as her reason that I not speak with Jacob. At least, not until my child was safely delivered.

 _Oh right. Jacob still doesn't know that I'm pregnant,_ I remembered suddenly. In all the chaos that had ensued in the last two weeks, I'd nearly forgotten that there were still people—people who weren't human, and therefore were allowed to know, that is—who still weren't aware of that fact.

 _That'll probably come as a huge shock,_ I thought.

I looked to Aro to see if he agreed with her assessment.

Again, Aro took in a breath and blinked, breaking his statue-impression to speak. "I also do not think it wise, Bella," he confessed with tight lips and interlocked fingers. "If young Jacob does become too upset, he might change shape," Aro reminded me.

 _Right. Werewolves do tend to phase when they get angry._

With a shudder, I recalled the ugly scar disfiguring half of Emily's face as a result of Sam's unchecked fury. _So it might be dangerous to have him near the baby,_ I silently concurred.

"And your friend has a telepathic connection with the rest of the pack when he is in wolf-form," Aro added. "Which could mean that knowledge of your pregnancy could spread to the entire wolf pack very quickly."

 _Oh. I hadn't considered that, but he's right,_ I realized, chewing nervously on my lower lip.

I could already anticipate Jacob's fury over my unintended pregnancy. Especially once he learned that Edward was the father.

And the knowledge that, when I refused to abort the child, Edward abandoned me to die, certainly wouldn't help matters either.

But the others… they were much more unpredictable.

 _Would Leah sympathize with my rejection?_ I pondered uncertainly. _Or would she think that I was selfish for wanting to keep an unknown, potentially destructive child, instead of choosing my husband?_ I worried. _Could I explain what I'd learned about Edward to her in a way that made sense?_ I wondered uneasily. _Explain that even though my heart was still deeply wounded from the loss of a future with Edward, that I was already working on moving on? Especially when she was still, after all this time, hung up over Sam?_

 _And what would Seth think? Or Paul? Or Quil? Or_ —

"I am no expert in Quileute politics." Aro tapped his fingers together uncertainly. He had not read any of the current pack members' minds directly. And thus he couldn't be sure of how they would act. "But it does not take a genius to assume, based on their animosity toward our kind, that they will not react kindly to the news…"

"My baby isn't hurting anyone," I rebutted. That seemed to be Sam's main beef with vampires. That they (including even most of the Cullens) inevitably killed people.

"Not _yet_ ," Aro stipulated. "But even we cannot be certain how contained the child will be once it is born."

Aro spread his arms in a wide arc to suggest that that the possibilities were many. And shrugged to suggest that, despite our best wishes, my baby could turn out to be something monstrous. There was no way to know, given his unprecedented nature.

"I sincerely hope it is more controllable than an immortal child…" Aro contributed in a frightened whisper. "But at this premature stage, I am afraid I can promise nothing…"

I bristled as that horrible phrase reached my ears again. Edward had insinuated earlier that Aro might believe my baby was an immortal child. But, since Aro had responded rather positively to my son, I assumed Edward's remarks were simply a result of his deep hatred of _all_ vampires.

That anyone else—especially someone I considered a friend—might envision my unborn infant that way made my stomach churn.

"You think, that Jacob will think my baby is an immortal child?" I asked, horrified that he might associate my baby with something so vile.

To my great relief, Aro shook his head. "I doubt Jacob or any of the other shape-shifters know of them," he staunchly denied. "I, myself, have not heard of one being created for centuries," he assured me in dulcet tones, rubbing my wrist in a gesture of solace.

After a few seconds, however, Aro recoiled from my hand as if burned. "Caius, of course, might think that…"

My entire body seized up at the thought.

I'd heard what had happened to Tanya, Kate and Irina's creator for her crime of making an immortal child. And I vividly remembered that Caius had wanted to punish them too. Despite the fact that they'd had no knowledge of the child's existence until they watched him burn in his mother's arms.

So the fact that I was innocent in this instance—that I hadn't intentionally created a hybrid—wouldn't matter in the slightest. In his mind, the mere existence of my baby would be ample justification to set us both ablaze.

Automatically my arms protectively encircled my huge belly—a belly that was almost its own continent now. I wasn't about to let the vicious man destroy my baby. Not after all I'd gone through to protect him.

"But Caius hasn't the slightest clue that you are with child," Aro quickly promised me, upon seeing my stiff, horrified expression. "And, as long as the word does not spread, he may never know," he soothed, rubbing his pale digits across my wrists again.

"However," Aro stipulated. "If young Jacob discovers the truth, and spreads that truth…"

I thought back to what Aro had said about the vampire rumor mill. I wasn't exactly sure how it all worked, given that Aro seemed to be able to keep some secrets and not others. But it was crystal clear to me now that if we didn't keep our circle of knowledge about my baby extremely tight, vital information could very easily fall into the wrong hands, and potentially place us in jeopardy.

My cheeks grew white as I came to the realization that, until my baby was fully grown, even a visit from the sisters in Denali was totally out of the question. As women who had lost their creator to an immortal child, I could only imagine what my baby would look like to them. A dangerous crime. An abomination. A cherubic monster.

We couldn't tell anyone about this. And it'd been an even bigger gamble than I'd thought to tell Aro.

I heaved an enormous sigh of relief that Aro had been sympathetic to my predicament, in spite of the outcome being unknown.

I also silently thanked the universe that currently, Aro and Caius seemed to be estranged, and therefore the knowledge of my baby's existence had not reached the white-haired vampire's heartless ears. Even if Caius' discovery of my child was ultimately unpreventable, that the cruel ancient remained oblivious for now was an immense source of comfort.

My shoulders trembled in obvious fear. "We can't let any other vampires know."

"Yes," Aro agreed.

"But even if no other vampires learn about this…" I said, half as hypothetical, and half as a prayer. "You said, you didn't think the pack would react kindly."

Aro nodded glumly and frowned. "Even without conscious knowledge of the existence of immortal children, your shape-shifting acquaintances will probably believe your child will become something similar."

My forehead scrunched in bewilderment. "Why would they think—?"

"Based on Carlisle's interactions with them, I must say, their instincts are quite good," Aro remarked, as though that was somewhat of a double-edged sword. Helpful, in instances like fighting off the newborns Victoria had sent to kill us. But detrimental in this case.

"Therefore," Aro went on, his expression grave. "It is likely, if the wolves were to learn of your child's existence, they would decide to eradicate your infant on their own."

 _What?!_ I panicked. Instinctively, I gripped my belly even tighter. _They might decide to..._

The same, ghastly, gory images that had assaulted my mind when Edward had threatened to rip my child from my womb filled my head again. Though this time, the vulnerable, porcelain-skinned boy in my mind's eye was torn violently to shreds by enormous, wolfy claws, and feral, glistening teeth, rather than diamond-hard fingers. A vicious tremor shook my entire body as I pictured my son's tiny flailing limbs and his wide green eyes seconds before he was brutally massacred.

At first, my mind viciously rebelled against the idea. _Jacob would never stand for that!_

But as I considered the other members of the pack, my heart sank as I realized that Aro was right. I could easily imagine that Sam, especially, might see the existence of my vampire offspring as a breach of the tenuous treaty we had with him. He'd been extremely reluctant to allow me to be bitten, even if it was for the purpose of changing making me immortal, rather than feeding. And so it wasn't _too_ much of a stretch to reason that he would see the conception of my little nudger, even accidental as it was, as an unforgivable crime.

While I tried to rationalize out what strategies Sam might employ to _deal_ with this breach of our treaty, it suddenly occurred to me that there was one big problem. A problem that Caius, in all his vindictive glory, might not care for. But a problem I wanted to believe would be an issue for the pack, at least.

I swallowed thickly. "But… I'm still carrying him…" I prodded my protuberant belly in demonstration. "Wouldn't they at least… wait until he's born?"

Aro's immaculate face contorted for a split second in pain. Then his expression turned deeply apologetic. "I cannot promise anything without reading their thoughts for myself," he gently specified. "But I would assume, given the pack's previous actions, that your involvement might not be an obstacle," he finished with a thick gulp at the end of his sentence.

 _My involvement might not be an obstacle?_ I tried not to believe it, but mostly I was just scared. _Did Sam intend to claw through my womb to slaughter my child, and leave me bleeding to death? Would I just be collateral damage to him? A life worth sacrificing for the safety of the tribe?_

My son trembled fitfully as I realized that my morbid thoughts were probably spot on. That since I was carrying a potential monster, I was already dead in Sam's eyes. And that he would have absolutely no qualms with erasing the both of us—my precious son and myself—from this earthly existence. As long as everyone human and werewolf would be safe...

I winced as my son's kicks grew stronger. They started to bruise the patches of flesh on my stomach that remained mortal.

He hadn't broken anything.

Yet.

But in order to prevent another dreadful accident like yesterday, I took a few deep breaths and cooed a few words of motherly assurance towards my belly.

And mercifully, after a few seconds, my baby's frenetic kicks slowed, only stinging a bit instead of smarting. Before, in another few seconds, disappearing entirely.

That was when I turned back to Renata. "You're right. I probably should wait to talk to Jacob," I reluctantly acquiesced.

As much as I hated the idea of keeping him in the dark, I only had four more days—if Carlisle was to be believed—until I delivered. At which point we could better conceal my child's existence.

And, given how poorly drinking animal blood had gone, along with Carlisle's ultimatum that I hunt for myself after I was transformed, Jacob might not want to speak to me after that, anyway. A relationship of any kind with him was hardly salvageable if I went and became a killer….

My heart sank at the thought that I really might become, as Jacob had insinuated during our dance at my wedding reception, completely dead to him. That I might actually transform into an unforgivable, red-eyed monster. The same sort of monster that he made it his life's mission to seek out and destroy.

I still—perhaps naively so—clung fiercely to the hope that I could defy Carlisle's grim expectations. That maybe the chemicals produced in my body as a result of my son's pregnancy were messing with my system in such a way that precluded me from drinking animal blood now, but would not inhibit me in the future. Or that the introduction of Carlisle's venom into my body would alter me enough to let me swallow it at least.

Both were long shots, for sure.

But at this point, they were all I had. My last hopes for not being trapped between choosing murder or starvation.

Aro nodded in acknowledgement of my words. Then he directed his crimson gaze toward his subordinate. "Do you believe it is possible to delay young Jacob for _two_ days?" he asked, concerned. "Perhaps I can get Carlisle to agree to move the C-section to the day after tomorrow," he offered as a potential solution to our predicament. "He did say that the child was large enough already to be viable outside the womb. And given how waiting may only inflict further injury on Isabella, it is only logical."

Renata gave a shot nod. "Two days is acceptable, Master."

"Good." Aro smiled. Then he retrieved his cell phone from one of his trench coat pockets. "I shall let Carlisle know that we desire to move up the delivery date."

I froze as I registered the implications behind Aro's words. He wanted to deliver my baby twice as fast as I'd been expecting.

Automatically, I panicked.

I didn't realize how much I'd taken those four days as a given until they were suddenly ripped out from under my feet. Short as that time frame was, it was a necessary buffer between the strange, vampire-human-limbo I was caught in now, and the terrifying realities of fully-fledged vampire life. To subtract anything from that precious, leftover time felt like sacrilege.

I needed that space to consider my options like I needed air to breathe.

Fear quickly flooded my system as the thought of losing my chance to search for humane alternatives hit me with full force. And, like every other time I became scared, my son responded violently to the emotional impulse.

But this time, I made no effort to appease him, or to stop his increasingly harmful thrashes. It wasn't like there was anything I could say to him or to myself to banish the suddenly all-consuming fear, anyway.

How was I supposed to be calm when Aro was proposing that I start slaughtering people in _two_ days, rather than four?

My heart thundered in my chest like a jackhammer, incessant and loud—a fact which Aro quickly picked up on. I saw his lips move to inquire if I was okay. But for some reason his voice was suddenly quiet and murky, as though I was hearing it underwater, and far away.

It took me a few moments to realize that Aro's words were only indistinct mumbles because of the blood. The blood that was rushing in my ears because of how hard my heart was pumping.

The blood—which unfortunately reminded me of the horrific deed I might be forced to do in a much shorter time than I'd previously believed.

My face grew ashen at the thought. And my teeth clenched together in an agonized grimace.

"Bella, my dear, are you alright?" Aro repeated, obvious concern etching his aristocratic features.

I blinked blearily as I actually heard him this time. It hadn't been any easy task. The blood almost drowned out everything.

"A-are you sure he's ready?" I shakily asked Aro. It was more of a plea for time then an actual concern for my son. "Carlisle said that I needed to be forty-centimeters around here," I drew a line across the widest part of my belly to demonstrate where the doctor had been measuring, once at sun-up and once at sun-down, "...and I'm only thirty-two now..."

"The child might be a tad premature," Aro conceded reluctantly. "But given how swiftly he or she is growing, I doubt that will remain an issue for long," he gave as his vote of confidence. "Why, even in human development, premature babies who've reached _this_ stage hardly suffer any mal-effects."

I might have agreed with Aro's reasoning too, if my thus-far clean record wasn't at stake. However, I'd been planning on using those four leftover days to do some research into other human-blood substitutes. To find another way to satisfy my thirst, besides Carlisle's methods, or using borrowed hospital blood. Another way which didn't necessitate human death.

 _But what if I can't find another way?_ I pessimistically considered. _If one existed, two days certainly wasn't enough time to find it. I would have to_ —

An awful pile human bodies—the same collection of bloodless, lifeless, friends and family which I'd seen in my nightmare before the wedding—resurfaced in my mind. Like before, I recognized them all—Angela, Ben, Jessica, Mike. And I flinched in horror as the gruesome vision focused on, one, limp head in particular, honing in on my father's blank, brown eyes.

 _No._

 _Not Charlie._

Though this time it was I, rather than some morbidly beautiful immortal child standing atop the gruesome pile. Streams of crimson dripped from my lips. And my teeth were bared in a blindingly white, devilish smile.

 _No, no, no, no, no._

My son jabbed me again, hard and bruising.

"Wouldn't it be...?" I clenched my teeth so that I wouldn't cry out. "...best to wait?" I tried to persuade Aro. Though it was difficult to sound convincing when my baby continued to thrash violently inside me. "When we're this close already—"

Aro cut me off with a staunch shake of his head. "If the child breaks any more of your bones..." he started ominously.

The beginnings of Aro's denial caused my stress-levels skyrocket exponentially.

And, right on cue, my son kicked with a vengeance, shattering another rib.

There was an audible _crack_ as the bone gave way. But I didn't even double over in pain. I was too numb at this point. Too full of adrenaline. Too terrified of my own self—my own potential to become something horrendous. My hands were quaking like a mountain slope before a volcanic eruption.

 _I can't kill someone! Killing is wrong! Killing is wrong. Killing is wrong, killingiswrong,_ I repeated over and over in my head. A mad mantra to try and keep me sane.

 _I can't, I can't, I can't..._ I mindlessly panicked as all my logical faculties gave way, and fell into the stretching pit of despair along with everything else.

I heard another _crack._ Dimly, I was aware of a spasm of pain occurring somewhere in the region of my pelvic bone. And whatever was happening inside my body made it so that I couldn't sit upright anymore, forcing me to slump over backwards in my seat. But I was still too numb with horror to scream.

"Bella! Bella!" Aro shouted, dismayed as he watched me fall back against the cushions.

In a flash his hands were all over me. They rolled up the hem of my shirt to check for injuries. And splayed across the cool flesh of my belly to get a better idea of what was going on.

As soon as Aro's flesh connected with mine, I think he said something along the lines of, "Bella you need to calm down. You're frightening the child,"

But I was too absorbed in my fears to even properly hear him, let alone properly react.

Suddenly my lips felt very dry. _I already know if I'm really thirsty and I'm presented with a bleeding human (or maybe even a_ _ **not**_ _bleeding human) I won't hesitate._ My mouth watered involuntarily at the thought of drinking fresh blood. Even as it made me cringe. _It really is unparalleledly delicious._

 _Crack!_ Another rib.

 _I really am just like Jasper said I would be as a newborn,_ I despaired. _All I can think about when I'm thirsty is human blood. In those moments, that's all I want!_ I lamented. _And I'd easily_ _ **kill**_ _for it._ I reasoned. After all, I had been _very close_ to accepting Aro's offer to "fetch me someone to drink."

I shuddered at the thought of actually going through with something so ghastly.

"Bella please!" Aro hissed in desperation. He gripped my wrists with an unexpected ferocity.

Suddenly, Aro seemed to recall that his harsh tone and fierce grip weren't going to help matters.

Immediately, he loosened his grasp. "You are perfectly safe," he placated in a gentle whisper. "Your babe is perfectly safe," he gestured to my belly. "I am perfectly safe," he pointed to himself. "Everyone is perfectly safe," he gestured to Renata, presumably referencing her powers, which she was using at this very moment to protect us. "There is no reason for you to panic," Aro assured me, straining to keep the worry saturating his melodious voice to a minimum.

 _You're wrong,_ I silently asserted. _Not everyone is safe. Not from_ _ **me**_ _..._

In the midst of a barrage of inward thrashing, I bit down on my lower lip to stop myself from crying out, and firmly shook my head. " _They're_ not safe... my friends... the humans..." I choked out in protest.

A look of horrified comprehension suddenly crossed Aro's face as he realized that what I feared at this moment wasn't any external threat, but rather a fear of myself. A fear of the wretched creature I might become.

His pale hands retracted guiltily. He wore the same, castigated expression as he had when Carlisle had told them there was another option. That no one had to die to feed me.

Then, after a moment, Aro tucked a few fingers beneath his chin in deep thought. I think he was trying to find a way to assuage _that_ fear of mine, before the damage my infant did to my body grew too severe.

I watched with rapt interest as his crimson eyes flickered frantically back and forth.

After another moment, Aro gritted his teeth and ran one hand in frustration through his silky black hair. Like his first thought was too hypocritical to voice aloud. Then, after considering something else, he fervently shook his head. And after pondering something else, his whole body quivered in anxiety.

But even though I observed his every move, I was wholly unprepared for the next words that escaped his beautiful lips.

"I promised that I would find you an alternative, my dear," Aro breathed in his attempting-to be-calming-but-actually-too-panicked-to-think-straight tone. A tone that was becoming all-too-familiar over these past several days.

"And I will," Aro solidly affirmed.

Aro's hands were suddenly clutching mine again, and shaking them imploringly the way he'd done before when he'd begged me to "accept his suit". "If you truly do not want to, I will not compel you to hunt as I do," he solemnly vowed.

It was obvious to me that this declaration was patently absurd. _Aro would not insist, given that another trial of animal blood failed, that I kill humans_? I considered dubiously. What other option was there? Continuing to steal from Forks Hospital obviously wasn't an option...

But nonetheless, the dark-haired vampire had given his announcement with such compelling sincerity that I couldn't help but believe him.

And, as soon as I allowed my frenzied mind to rest upon that glorious idea—the notion that killing might _not_ be necessary in the even that my second attempt to swallow animal blood failed—automatically, my fiercely tense muscles started to relax. And at once, my easily excitable child stilled again within my womb.

There was a brief instance of respite that followed Aro's words. Then I winced as the strange numbness that had accompanied my terror suddenly vanished as well. An agony almost comparable in intensity, if not sensation, to the searing pain caused by James' bite suddenly ripped through my being. And instinctively, my hands flew to my torso, hovering over the areas that burned and ached with nearly unfathomable pain.

Alleviating that pain still wasn't my top priority, however. I desperately needed to understand how Aro could have so much confidence that I wouldn't have to kill anyone, when he himself seemed to always be discouraging any other method of feeding.

"You w-won't?" I stammered out, my eyes scrunched shut in agony.

"Bella, dear," Aro began with a heavy, disappointed sigh. He sound a little more relaxed now that my son's kicking and bone-breaking seemed to have stopped. Though he still remained concerned. "I would never presume to force you to do _anything_ you found undesirable."

Aro drew a hand delicately across my cheek.

"But Carlisle said—!"

Aro immediately cut me off. "If you _wish it,_ of course I would be willing to assist you in hunting... ah, shall we say... _traditionally,"_ he clarified in a purr, making it crystal clear that my desires were paramount.

I shivered—I wasn't sure whether in terror or delight—as I tried to picture what that might look like. Aro and I hunting humans. Together.

If it wasn't such a morbid activity, the idea of Aro and I going somewhere together, and the elder vampire patiently coaching me through something I was unfamiliar with, almost sounded cute. Like a date. But as I realized that on my first hunt Aro would be teaching me awful things, like how to select the best prey, how to corner that poor, hapless human, how and where to bite through their flesh, and how to drink their delicious blood, I immediately rescinded that internal comment.

"Though," Aro chipped in suddenly, shaking me from my grisly thoughts. "Did you not inform me earlier that you wished to try animal blood again?" he asked, sounding a little bewildered by my apparent change of plans.

But I hadn't changed that plan. I was just increasingly pessimistic about how it would work out.

"I do," I gritted out, while clenching a determined fist in front of my chest. "I'm just not sure it will... you know... _work,"_ I expressed honestly, before dropping my hand despondently into my lap.

"Ah, I see," Aro exhaled in sudden understanding. His eyes flickered nervously toward my abdomen before raising back to the level of mine. "Do not worry, dearest Bella. I give you my word that if your second attempt with Carlisle does not go as planned..." he trailed off, knowing that elaborating might only traumatize me further. "...I _will_ find an adequate solution."

I felt a surge of warmth in my heart as I heard him promise this. Aro really did, as he'd proved time and time again, have my best interests in mind.

But that same heart abruptly turned cold as I felt the other shoe drop inside my head. _Aro can promise all he wants. But if my reaction to animal blood doesn't change, and there isn't a way to satisfy my thirst that: a) doesn't arouse too much suspicion, and b) doesn't require me to kill anyone..._

 _Well, there won't be any other option,_ it occurred to me as I recalled what Jasper said about newborns, and their all-consuming desire to hunt. _I'll have to kill._

"And if you... _can't_?" I gulped.

Aro looked a little hurt that I didn't trust his abilities. Though his pinched expression quickly gave way to an acquiescing sigh. "Then the choice is still yours."

"But—!"

Aro was evidently tiring of arguing with me. Or maybe just scared of the all-too-likely possibility of riling up my son again. Probably both. "Do not worry yourself over this for another two days, Bella," he insisted in a calm, but firm whisper. "I will take care of everything."

Reluctantly I swallowed the saliva that remained on my tongue. I still wasn't sure I believed Aro. But what else could I do? Aro was right about one thing. Worrying, right _now_ about whether or not I would murder anyone in the future wasn't going to do me any good. At this point, all it might result in was more fractures, and frightening, black bruises.

I gave Aro a clipped nod.

"Good," Aro acknowledged with a short nod of his own. "Now let's have Carlisle take a look at those injuries, shall we?"

...

As usual, Carlisle had expertly wrapped up all of my broken bones. But at this point, I was starting to think that adding any more medical tape to my abdomen was ridiculous. I already looked like a mummy in that vicinity, thanks to all the damage that had been done a couple of days prior, so layering on more bandages seemed fruitless. And covering my belly would only made it more difficult for Aro to find a bare patch of skin to facilitate his mental connection with my unborn child.

But the kindly doctor had insisted. So I'd indulged him.

I hoped that the maze of tape wouldn't prove to be too much of a problem. The insights Aro had obtained thus far from being able to quickly read my child's thoughts were invaluable. And there was no telling how the few-second delay Aro would encounter in trying to seek out a patch of skin that was still unblocked might affect my health. Seconds could be the difference between life and death.

The only consolation I had was that I wouldn't have to deal with that handicap for long. I only had two more days. Only two more days to wait until my little nudger would finally be free from the dark confines of my womb. So, as long as I managed to remain calm during that time, and my baby didn't decide to lash out for any other reason, it wouldn't be an issue.

Which was easier said than done, of course. But a mother had to try.

The fact that the "delivery" was only two days now, of course was frightening, in some aspects. But a part of me was excited at the prospect of finally meeting my son. I hadn't had a lot of time to get used to the idea of being a mother—most women got nine months to mull it over—not to mention I'd been a lot more concerned with our survival during this pregnancy, than anything else. The few books I'd started on the subject of pregnancy and babies had been completely forgotten ever since Aro arrived, so I was far from prepared. But I was thrilled at the idea of getting to hold my little boy at last, just the same.

At least… if I were to make it that far.

There was still a very real possibility that I might never get the chance to see my baby. That I would die in the process of childbirth, never seeing his beautiful face.

When I'd shared this fear aloud, Aro had made his best efforts to console me. He felt a lot more optimistic about my future now that I had venom in my veins. And Carlisle was also convinced that my partial vampirism had only increased my odds of survival. Plus he was very confident in his ability to keep my heart beating long enough to facilitate the rest transformation after he extracted my son.

But, with how unpredictable this pregnancy had been so far, there was still no guarantee that I would live.

Not to mention it was hard to feel safe when I'd had another narrow miss today, another near brush with death. A brush that left me with a total of four fractured ribs, and a broken pelvis.

And while the venom slowly overtaking my body did greatly increase my healing time, all of my fractures were taking several days to heal. An impressive feat, considering that broken bones typically took _months_ to repair themselves. But not impressive enough to automatically spare me in the horribly unlucky event that my son snapped the wrong portion of my spine. Or punctured an internal organ.

I obviously didn't _want_ to die. I wanted to live. To experience the incredible privilege of holding my child after all the work I'd done to secure his safe entry into this world. And so, for the sake of my own, and my son's health, I strained to keep my chin up for the rest of the day. To imagine the best scenarios occurring during my baby's birth, instead of the worst.

But it wasn't always easy.

…

The next day—one day before I was scheduled to deliver—I realized that, in all the panic this past week, the five vampires occupying this house and I had overlooked a very important item of business.

I wanted to smack myself for being so forgetful. _Of all the things to slip my mind, how could I have forgotten this?!_ But ultimately, for the sake of not bruising my head, I decided against it. Instead, I simply shared the problem with Aro as we sat beside one another in the living room.

"We need a name," I told Aro in a serious voice.

Aro's face twisted into a quizzical expression. "A name?"

"For the baby," I clarified, pointing towards my enormous stomach.

I felt stupid for only remembering this now. I'd worked so hard over the last two weeks to prove that my son was a person, not an infestation. And yet I had neglected to give that person a name.

Understanding immediately replaced the confusion etching Aro's flawless features. "Ah, you are correct," he realized aloud. "Forgive me, I seem to have forgotten all about that," he confessed, placing a palm dramatically against the side of his head to demonstrate his temporary absent-mindedness.

"Me too," I admitted with an embarrassed shrug. "Until now, at least."

"What do _you_ propose we name the child?" Aro politely asked. His expression was curious. And his eyes shone with wonder, as though he was already imagining my baby swaddled in a monogrammed onesie.

"Well... I came up with some ideas while I was coming back from my honeymoon," I mumbled.

I rubbed my chilly right arm uncomfortably as I recalled that distant, fairytale-like collection of memories. Those months where I had believed that Edward reciprocated my feelings, despite only having occurred maybe two weeks ago, seemed like forever away, now.

"However..." I trailed off and stared pointedly at the tawny carpet, unwilling to meet Aro's piercing gaze.

"However—?" Aro prompted eagerly.

I stiffened and blushed bright red in humiliation as I remembered the silly ideas I'd come up with at that time. The silly ideas that I had hoped would help unify our then not-yet-disintegrated coven. Silly ideas that had absolutely no relevance to my current situation.

"Edward Junior doesn't really seem appropriate anymore," I told the ancient vampire beside me.

Aro's brilliant smile faltered for a moment. "Ah. I would have to agree."

I detected a certain sense of sadness there, perhaps a sadness Aro harbored that I'd ever even entertained the notion of naming my offspring after Edward. After his rival for my affections. After an incubus.

But it was only the tiniest hint—something I could probably be imagining, for all I knew. And it swiftly evaporated, as Aro inclined his head ponderously and presented me with another, pleasant question.

"And did you have any ideas... should the child turn out to be a girl?"

Aro tilted his head in the opposite direction suddenly, as if to visually suggest that, my constant reference to my baby as a son notwithstanding, there was still a 50/50 percent chance she would turn out to be female.

I swallowed nervously as I remembered that, unlikely as that outcome seemed to me, I had considered it while Edward and I were on the boat back to the mainland.

"Uh... it might be silly but..." I prefaced, ducking my head into my lap again in mortification for my cheesy choice. "I was thinking of combining our mother's names, Renee and Esme, to make... uh... Renesmee."

"Ruh-nez-may?" Aro pronounced the word uncertainly, like it belonged to a foreign language.

"R-e-n-e-s-m-e-e," I spelled out for him, figuring that might aid him in saying it correctly. Though I didn't know why I bothered. It wasn't like I could use the strange, cutesy moniker _now_.

"Ah," Aro sighed in partial comprehension.

It was only partial, though, because his eyebrows remained quirked in bewilderment, and there was a skeptical glint to his eyes that suggested that, even if he could say and spell the word, that didn't necessarily make it a good idea to name an infant that peculiar amalgam of syllables.

"It's kinda weird, I know," I agreed, abashed that I'd ever thought of it. "I had a backup. We could name her Carlie," I told him with a little less of a grimace than before. It wasn't as bizarre as my first suggestion. Though that hardly served as an endorsement. "That'd be a mix of our father's names..." I explained with hunched shoulders and a sheepish smile.

 _Damn it, why had I been so corny about this?_ I chastised myself. _Why couldn't I be like a_ _ **normal**_ _mother, who named their child something reasonable? And not some sappy, contrived excuse for a name that resulted primarily from my desperation to keep an unhealthy relationship together?_

"Those were my thoughts... but..." I gestured weakly in the air, words failing me.

Aro seemed to understand what I was getting at, regardless. "You no longer feel they are appropriate either."

I gave him a clipped nod. "It was supposed to be cute, you know. To mix-together our parents names, or take Edward's name..." I offered as my reasoning back then. Back in those hazy, surreal memories when I'd still fiercely clung to the absurd hope that Edward, the baby and I could be a family.

"But… Edward's no longer a part of this," I reminded Aro with a morose expression.

As I related this information, my eyes flickered to the heavy stone still resting on my left ring finger. The last physical evidence that Edward, (that vile, manipulative man who had masqueraded as a lover and a saint) had ever had any connection with me.

Suddenly it was more than shackle now. Now the ring I'd been wearing almost constantly for the last few months was an unbearable weight. A crushing reminder of my many inadequacies. Of the horrible consequences that could, and had, resulted from my blind trust in others.

It abruptly felt slimy, and wrong on my left hand.

I wanted it off. Anything that had any connection with Edward had no business touching my skin. Not after what I now knew about him.

And I never wanted to see it ever again.

Heck, if it weren't so goddamn beautiful—infuriatingly so, like the one who'd given it to me—I might have tried to smash it in that moment. To ram the metal relentless against the cast iron legs of the coffee table in front of me until it bent and broke under the pressure. The action would certainly be satisfying, in a cruel sort of way…

But instead, I decided to simply wrench Edward's diamond ring off of my finger, and set it down on the tabletop in front of me in one defiant motion. "And I... never _want_ him to be a part of this again," I announced firmly as the metal clanked noisily against the glass.

Aro's face lit up with the force of a thousand suns, like I'd just given him the best news he'd heard in his entire, multi-millennial life. His joyous expression only remained for a fraction of a second, however, before he seemed to recall that such a reaction might be rather callous, in light of how difficult this was for me.

Immediately, Aro's face softened. And one of his hands delicately rubbed at my shoulders, while the other took hold my now ring-less left hand and drew it tenderly away from the incriminating object.

I didn't realize I'd started to cry until the fingers attempting to soothe my shoulders briefly lifted to wipe tears from my eyes. This realization shocked me—I thought I was over this. That I was over _him_. That I had no regrets over my current course of action. The course that had me blazing ahead in my relationship with Aro, in spite of not yet being formally divorced.

Apparently, I still had some unresolved feelings to work through.

I shouldn't have been so surprised at that insight. Not even counting the seven-month interruption we'd experienced when Edward had abandoned me the first time, Edward and I been together romantically for over a year. So moving on wasn't going to be completely without its struggles, even though I knew, logically, that it was the best move.

The sound of someone clearing their throat on the threshold entering the living room from the kitchen dragged me out of these abysmal thoughts. "Might I cut in?" Carlisle asked as he tentatively stepped into the room.

Aro gave my grieving figure a brief glance before, upon seeing my terse nod of approval, he said, "Of course."

"I am sorry, but I could not help but overhear your conversation just now," Carlisle admitted, sounding somewhat ashamed for eavesdropping, as he gradually paced closer to where we sat.

Automatically I tensed on the couch as I heard these words. _Carlisle had heard us?_ I panicked. _Was he going to be angry at me, for what I'd said about his son?_

 _He did tell Aro that he believed Edward hadn't been acting like a husband lately,_ I remembered. _But was he really okay with this? He'd defended my husband so passionately before…_

Upon seeing my tense expression, Carlisle hastily moved to explain that his motives were not what I assumed. "I just wanted to say that… even if you and Edward are no longer together… I still consider you my daughter, and so does Esme," he contributed warmly.

I blinked in shock. _Carlisle still thought of me as family?_

"Even if I… _can't_ be a vegetarian?" I prodded, unable to believe that even the kindly Cullen's generosity stretched that far.

Carlisle immediately stiffened at my remarks, obviously unnerved by my assertion. Though, astonishingly, it only took him a second to relax.

"Of course," the doctor solidly affirmed. "Aro is still my friend, is he not?" he added, as further evidence that my diet would hardly change his perspective on our relationship.

Though, after witnessing the considerable strain that their differing diets placed on Aro and Carlisle's friendship, my stomach twisted into uneasy knots as I thought of having a similar connection with the doctor.

I really hoped that wouldn't be necessary… that I could be a fully-fledged member of the clan. But that was looking less and less likely at this point.

"Yes… but—"

As politely as he could manage, Carlisle cut me off. "What I am saying is… if your child is a daughter and you still like the idea of Renesmee or Carlie, I would support your decision," he announced with a small smile. Like he was pleased with the idea that I might want to nominally tie my offspring to his family in this small way.

Heartwarming as the gesture was, I was totally perplexed by it. "You would?"

Carlisle nodded sincerely. "Very much so," he assented. "Though, if you've decided those names are no longer to your liking, that is fine, too," he quickly supplied from where he stood, a few feet away, to make it clear that he wasn't trying to pressure me into picking one name over the other. He was just clarifying that I shouldn't disqualify a name I liked because it drew inspiration from members of the Cullen family.

"Of course, if the child is a boy, you'll still need to come up with another option," Carlisle noted aloud.

He'd probably come to the same conclusion that I had—that no amount of rationalization could make the name Edward Junior even remotely redeemable, given my current circumstances.

"Do you have any ideas?" I asked Aro desperately, since I royally sucked at coming up with names.

"I never supposed that I would ever be in a position to name offspring, so unfortunately, no, not off the top of my head, my dear..." Aro revealed with a low sigh.

I turned to the doctor before I repeated my question.

Unexpectedly, Carlisle laughed. "I am in the boat as Aro, I am afraid," he confessed with a mirthful look in his butterscotch eyes. "I'd never imagined I'd have to be naming babies at some point," he explained with an incredulous shake of his head, as though, even now, the idea was still somewhat unbelievable.

"Do you have any other ideas, now that you've had some time to think, Bella?" the blond asked, his pale face still glowing with humor.

Vigorously I shook my head.

It was true. I didn't. Not a single one.

The few I had scrounged up at random were just the names of my friends. Or other people I'd known at some time in my life. And, as noble as some of them were—Aro and Carlisle especially—I had no desire to name my son after either one of them, in the event that my choice might spur animosity between the two.

I tried to think of the most random name possible. "Um... what about Pheobe, for a girl?" I wasn't particularly fond of it, but at least it wasn't the name of anyone I knew.

But to my astonishment, Aro staunchly shook his head. "No, she was a previous lover of mine."

He seemed to believe—and I had to agree—that naming my child the same name as a former paramour of Aro's was in bad taste. Especially given that we might have a more permanent future together at some point.

Immediately, I resolved not to commit that obvious faux pas. But my heart suddenly fell as I realized that I would have to avoid _two-hundred and fifty-seven_ different names. Many of them were probably obscure, ancient, and out of use. But in that long list, there were potentially some rather nice ones as well.

I gnawed on my lower lip as I tried to decide what to do with this information.

At long last, I decided that maybe it was safer if I tried to pick a boy's name first.

"Alexander?" I suggested hesitantly.

Aro's lips twisted into a humored, but also slightly pained smile. Like he thought my suggestion was really funny, in an ironic sort of way, but still unacceptable. " _Also_ a previous lover of mine," he denied with no room for argument.

My eyebrows skyrocketed at this assertion. Immediately I was certain I'd heard him wrong. "Alexan _der_ not Alexan _dra_?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Carlisle's lips turning upwards ever so slightly at the corners—that same, infuriating, knowing smile he'd displayed whenever Aro had failed to get his point across to me. He evidently already understood whatever piece of this puzzle that I was missing. But the expectant look he was giving his friend clearly told me that he wanted _Aro_ to elaborate, rather than explain it himself.

Amused, Aro shook his head. "I never said that all of my lovers were female..."

 _Oh._

Once again, I wanted to smack myself in the forehead. He was right. He'd always said "person" or "lover" when referring to those two-hundred and fifty-seven mysterious vampires in our earlier conversation. The only time he'd ever specified a gender was when he was speaking about Sulpicia specifically.

I guessed I hadn't really been paying good enough attention. Every other vampire I'd met so far seemed reasonably heterosexual, so I'd just assumed...

 _How embarrassing._

Automatically I winced at the knowledge that I'd made such sweeping assumptions about the whole of vampirekind, including Aro. I had not done so intentionally, not even consciously—for if I had, I most certainly would have caught myself sooner. It had just never crossed my mind, in the absence of any direct evidence, that vampire sexuality might prove to be just as diverse as human sexuality.

I felt abruptly stupid that it hadn't, because it seemed patently obvious now. But then again, I'd forgotten even more obvious things in the past few days—like the ramifications of Aro's powers. So it wasn't like this particular lapse was any worse than any of my others.

Unfortunately, Aro seemed to mistake my self-castigation for alarm. "Does _this_ knowledge... upset you?" he queried hesitantly. Though, there was a hopeful lilt to his voice. Like he was optimistic that I wouldn't be disgusted by the fact that his sexual experience included men as well as women. Like he believed that if I could get over the fact that he'd had so many, surely _this_ should not be insurmountable….

I was glad he was starting to exercise some faith in me.

"No. It's just... a surprise, that's all," I shared truthfully.

I'd very briefly dated a bisexual boy in Phoenix before, so it wasn't like the concept was novel, or gross to me. If anything, the knowledge that Aro was popular with both the boys and the girls only made him hotter.

My cheeks flamed tomato red before I continued to explain, "I've just never met a vampire before who was..."

"Flexible?" Aro suggested.

"That's one way to put it."

"You might be surprised," Aro shared in a sultry voice, with a feral grin that suggested I might already know of others who were similarly inclined. "But I believe we were attempting to find a name for your offspring," he reminded us, trying to redirect us back onto our original topic.

"Right," I acknowledged, realizing we'd gotten a little side-tracked.

"I am rather fond of Matthew," Carlisle chipped in suddenly, surprising Aro and I with his interjection.

Upon seeing no protest from Aro, I decided to test it out. "Matthew."

It had a nice ring to it. Simple. But sorta stately.

"You're right that is a nice name," I happily agreed.

Carlisle beamed under my praise before he added another suggestion. "And if you do not like Renesmee for a girl, I might suggest Nessa instead."

The unfamiliar name intrigued me. "Nessa?" I asked, both as a form of testing how it felt on my tongue, and as a way of asking Carlilse to elaborate why he'd been prompted to choose that name in particular.

"It means 'miracle'," the doctor warmly explained. "And your child certainly is quite a miracle, yes?"

"Ah, how clever," Aro noted, sounding rather pleased with his friend's choice. "And Matthew means "gift from God", which is another way of saying a miraculous blessing, is it not?"

Carlisle nodded, a cheerful, enthusiastic, bob.

"I rather like those options. They are… very appropriate, given the circumstances," Aro contributed as his opinion before immediately twisting on the couch to better face me. "What do you think of them, Bella?"

My face suddenly glowed with a motherly smile. I patted my huge belly. "I like Matthew. It's a common name, but it sounds strong. Dignified."

"Also the name of a saint." Aro smirked, like that fact was particularly funny.

He probably thought it was little ironic, given that my child was at least half-vampire. Especially since, aside from Edward and Carlisle, there were very few immortals who tried to adhere to mortal religious codes.

But I didn't see any problems with it. If I could still picture Carlisle as a saint, in spite of his vampirism, I didn't see any reasons why I couldn't name my son after one.

"And… err… I think I like Nessa better than Renesmee," I hesitantly admitted, given Carlisle's earlier endorsement of the name. "It has a similar ring to it, but it's less… convoluted," I added for clarification of my choice.

Aro nodded in contentment. "I agree," he expressed, his confident face now a much more reassuring image than his doubtful expression earlier when I'd suggested the odd, mish-mash of a name that was Renesmee.

"Alright then. I think I'll go with Matthew if it's a boy, and Nessa if it's a girl," I decided.

"Excellent," Aro hummed in approval.

…

I was still half-asleep from napping on the couch later that afternoon, and still believed by all present to be fully asleep, since I was completely buried in blankets, when Aro's worried words reached my ears.

"Carlisle, are you certain that you shouldn't hunt before the procedure?" he asked with no small measure of trepidation. "Your eyes are nearly black, my good friend," he noted, obviously fearful of that fact. Or more specifically, what that fact might entail for my safety.

"I'll be fine," Carlisle said dismissively, as if his soon-to-be-scorching throat wasn't going to be a problem in the slightest. "I've endured much worse," he added to bolster his statement.

I bristled a little against the couch cushions as I tried to imagine what could possibly be worse than feeling like your mouth was on fire, and not being allowed to drink the running liquid right in front of you which would surely put it out. Knowing a little bit about thirst myself, and how completely it destroyed _my_ rational faculties, even when I was nowhere near as far gone as black eyes meant, I couldn't come up with anything.

Nor could I even imagine how Carlisle could put himself through that much agony in the first place.

"The delivery will likely be a… rather bloody affair," Aro reminded his friend in a deadly serious voice. "Are you certain that you can… _contain_ yourself?" he asked with obvious skepticism and deep anxiety.

Apparently, Aro shared my incredulity that the doctor would be able to hold back, whilst so evidently ravenous.

"Aro, you ought to know my limits better than anyone. I once performed an open-heart-surgery with black eyes," Carlisle shared as an absolute example of the extent of his abilities to resist.

I struggled not to gasp as I heard this. _Open-heart surgery? With black eyes?_ I marveled. _And Aro still insisted that Edward still trumped him in terms of restraint?_

Carlisle cleared his throat before he supplied another example. "Not to mention all the times I avoided your temptations in Volterra…"

Aro swallowed, feeling chastised for his involvement in those incidents for a moment before he went on. "…Yes…" he guiltily acknowledged. "But this time you will be… _tasting_ blood," he offered as his estimation of how the present situation was different from those previous ones.

"Inadvertently, of course," Aro automatically stipulated, probably to assure Carlisle that he trusted the doctor not to intentionally imbibe more than strictly necessary. "But it will be unavoidable when you bite her. And then the frenzy—"

"I know," Carlisle cut him off.

I decided he was already well aware, having already successfully transformed seven vampires, of the powerful instincts he would have to override.

"But I can handle this," Carlisle announced confidently. "Trust me, Aro."

"I want to, Carlisle," Aro expressed with deep sincerity. "However, Isabella's well-being is of paramount importance to me. Even the tiniest sliver of a chance that you might fail makes me uneasy," he confessed with a shiver that shook the couch cushions.

Aro sighed. "I would be happiest if you were to _completely_ sate your thirst..." he expressed as the most favorable option.

I jolted where I lied as I realized what Aro was getting at— _he wanted Carlisle to… drink human blood?_

And as he came to the same conclusion, Carlisle made a scandalized noise.

"But I am willing to settle for a compromise," Aro allowed cordially. "Go into the mountains. Feed as you wish. Come back to us when your eyes are golden again," he commanded firmly. "Bella will be much safer if you do this."

Carlisle sighed. Both in relief that the elder vampire was not going to force him to contradict his morals. And in exasperation as he realized that Aro had a point. "Very well," he relented.

A few moments later I heard a pair of footsteps heading toward the door.

"You have my utmost gratitude," Aro called pleasantly after the doctor as he padded away from us.

"I'll be back in an hour or so," Carlisle told us, his voice echoing from somewhere near the front door.

There was a short pause before Carlisle suddenly asked, "Is Jacob close enough to the house to see me?" He sent his words in the other direction like he wasn't speaking to either of us.

"No," I heard Renata coldly respond from the other room. "The shape-shifter is still several blocks away."

"Good," Carlisle acknowledged with a hearty sigh of relief.

Then, after another brief pause, he addressed Aro again. "Keep her safe until I return," Carlisle instructed the ancient, referring to me.

Aro tenderly rubbed my sleepy head. "Of course."

…

"Ah that is much better," Aro's bright voice exhaled in approval, sometime later, when Carlisle returned from hunting. "Not as good as red, but—"

"Aro," Carlisle firmly warned.

Immediately the ancient clapped his mouth shut on the rest of his inappropriate sentence, and switched to an apologetic tone. "Pardon me, I was merely thinking aloud," Aro said. His dulcet tones the last thing I heard in my half-awake state before I fell all-the-way back asleep again.

…

"Are you nervous about tomorrow, my dear?" Aro asked me later that night, when I'd finished my nap.

"A little bit," I shared, twiddling my fingers uneasily in my lap. "How long do you think the transformation will take, since I already have venom in my system?"

I was desperate to know how long I was supposed to be in pain, so that perhaps while it was happening I could motivate myself with the knowledge that it would be over soon.

To my disappointment, however, Aro frowned. "Carlisle and I cannot be sure," he admitted. "That is actually what he is hoping to ascertain in the lab right now," the handsome man revealed, directing a pale hand in the direction of the room in question. "Though, based on recent scans, the venom seems to be keeping a rather steady, but slow pace."

My hands automatically flew to my belly. A reflex I'd done so many times, I wondered if I might retain it for a few weeks after I gave birth. "It hasn't touched him yet, has it?" I asked, frightened of the possibility of venom going anywhere near my vulnerable baby.

A surge of relief shot through me when Aro shook his head. "No. Not yet," he informed me, before reaching across the coffee table in front of us to grab a single sheet of paper that rested there.

As Aro dragged the sheet towards us, I realized it was a print copy of the latest X-ray Carlisle had administered. I peered down at the glossy, colored ink that covered the page with intense concentration, hoping to have a better idea of my current state as I did so.

Aro tapped the paper, pointing to a mass of stark black shapes trailing from my throat, and through my abdomen. They stood out quite a bit from the white, visible bones, and the light grey shapes around them.

"Your digestive tract is already completely transformed," Aro noted. "However, the venom seems more interested in your outer flesh than your inner organs currently," he explained, jabbing a finger at a rash-like pattern of black that shrouded more than half of my right arm, but didn't permeate more than the upper tissues, let alone the bone beneath it.

I nodded as I saw what Aro was talking about. Then gestured for him to continue.

Aro continued to poke the printed X-Ray in the appropriate places as he talked. "It has left your heart, your lungs, and, as far as we can tell, your womb, entirely alone," he explained.

I smiled weakly as I looked down at the printout and realized he was right. The areas he'd talked about remained visible, as greyscale entities, to the X-ray machine. Except for my amniotic sac, which had been completely black from the start, and now had a little bit of the same smattering of black in front of it, due to the venom spreading on the surface of my skin, right around my belly-button.

But I could see what Aro had meant when he'd asserted that he believed my womb had been entirely left alone. The silhouette hadn't grown any larger than my baby's growth rate would suggest it should. And there was plenty of grey still surrounding it.

I let out a huge breath that I hadn't known I was holding in. "That's a relief."

"Indeed," Aro easily agreed.

"Do you think that tomorr—" I started to ask. But I was rudely cut off by a sharp pain emanating from my center. "—Ah!"

 _Crack!_

In an instant, Aro's hands sought out a mental connection with my son. It took him a few seconds of rubbing his hands over my belly to find a spot that wasn't smothered in medical tape. But as soon as his fingers collided with a patch of unshrouded skin, his already pale face turned even whiter. And his crimson eyes widened in horror.

"Bella! Bella can you hear me!" Aro desperately cried.

"I—" I started to say before I was cut off by sudden scream, which was using my open mouth as an opportunity to tear through my throat.

It wasn't just an ordinary scream though, it was a blood-curdling shriek of agony. I could hardly believe that I was the source of the horrifying sound. It made every hair on my body stand on end, and—judging by Aro's sudden petrification upon hearing it, I imagined it was having a much similar effect on everyone else.

I tried morphing the god-awful sound into words, when I felt my child move inside me again. But this time was different. This time he wasn't kicking or punching or doing anything else that I'd expected. Instead, I could feel his entire body squirming inside me, like a caterpillar wriggling in the dirt. The bulbous shape of his head twisted from it's previous position, until it directly faced the front of my abdomen. He gave one last, experimental kick against the thick membrane encasing him before—

"NO, CHILD!" Aro yelped, forgetting, in the heat of the moment that the loud, sharp sound would probably only scare my baby more. "Don't—!"

I felt something being yanked viciously inside me. Like an invisible anchor tethered to my back had been dropped overboard. Foolishly, I struggled against the force, trying to lean forward in my seat on the beige cushions. But the pull was too strong. And the tension of being headed in two opposite directions caused something inside me to rupture.

The pain was so intense, I blacked out for a few seconds. When I came to again, I heard a strange, muffled ripping sound emanating from the center of my body. But I was too weary, and too queasy all of a sudden to process what it must mean.

Another hair-raising scream ravaged my throat as the ripping inside me continued. But this time, something hot and liquid came up my esophagus, cutting off the ungodly sound with a wet gurgle.

I was grateful for the interruption. Until the same fluid that had clogged my throat burst out of my mouth—a dark, viscous fountain of blood.

Despite my best efforts to contain it, I couldn't hold back the stream. Scarlet splattered all over the Cullens' immaculate couches. And, due to his unfortunate proximity, all over Aro's black designer clothing.

It was stupid, but I wanted to apologize for making such a ghastly mess. Especially when it impacted Aro's fabulous, but rather limited travel wardrobe.

But just as I was about to do so, suddenly my eyes rolled into the back of my head. And my whole frame twitched violently on the couch.

Aro's strong arms prevented me from quaking off the bloodstained cushions and onto the creamy floor. But they couldn't keep me from fading in and out of consciousness.

"Renata, fetch Carlisle!" I heard Aro cry between flashes of lucidity.

"Right away, Master," she replied before leaving in a swish of dark fabric.

But before the either the petite vampire or the blond doctor could return, I heard another _crack_ , this time in the vicinity of my back. And everything went black.


	16. Chapter 16: Extraction

**An: Did a little prose clean-up of the previous chapters. Nothing momentous. Just cut out some unnecessary adjectives, mostly.**

 **Also, just a head's up, my RL wedding is in a few days, so I might be absent for a little while.**

* * *

 _I will not cut…_

 _but will commit that affair_

 _entirely to the surgeons._

 _(Original Version of the Hippocratic Oath)_

 _..._

CHAPTER 16: EXTRACTION

Somehow, after what felt like an eternity of nothing but blackness, I floated back into consciousness. I wasn't sure how long I'd been out—time was immaterial in the dark. But the first thing I noticed when my senses returned was that sometime during the chaos after I blacked out I'd been moved.

The surface beneath me now felt cold and metal, unlike the plush furniture I'd collapsed on before. The air scraping through my tired lungs tasted stagnant, and laced with a variety of ointments and chemicals. And the assortment of blinking white lamps hanging at various angles above me suggested that I was in Carlisle's medical lab.

 _An operating table,_ my trauma-hazed mind suddenly pieced together. _I'm lying on an operating table._

 _But why?_ came my next labored thought. _Did something go wrong?_

Somewhere in the back of my mind I remembered hearing a series of loud _cracks_. And localized spots of excruciating pain. My son, in his fear, had broken several of my bones in one fell-swoop. And given that many of them were ribs—which had a frightening potential to puncture vital organs when they were fractured—I was starting to understand a number of potential reasons why Carlisle would think some kind of surgery was necessary.

Plus, there'd been that strange ripping sound. And I'd thrown up blood. Both of which definitely weren't good signs.

Still, the thought of scalpels and needles going anywhere near my skin made me cringe. My luck with sharp implements had never been stellar.

"Carlisle!" I heard Aro's voice cry urgently from some untraceable location in the room. The hard walls were too echoey to place him. "You must bite open her womb!"

 _Whoa, wait. It was time already? Didn't Aro say they were planning to wait one more day?_ I thought hazily. _Did something bad happen to me while I was out? Something that meant my baby wouldn't be safe inside me anymore?_ I fearfully considered. _Was that the source of the ripping sound and the vomiting, earlier?_

Suddenly a warm, masculine hand splayed itself over my stomach. "The placenta has detached, Carlisle!" Aro shouted a bit more forcefully, to convey just how dire my situation really was.

 _The placenta's detached?_ I panicked. I wasn't the brightest crayon in the box, but I'd paid enough attention in biology to know what that meant. _That means my baby can't breathe!_

Instantly my fear of sharp implements vanished. There were much more pressing things on my mind. "Get him out!" I shrieked shrilly, surprising the two men standing at my bedside.

 _If these sorts of thing were already happening, why hadn't they done it yet? Certainly Carlisle must know of the risks…_

"DO IT NOW!" I added, to spur the men into action, rather than let them continue to stare blankly at me.

"We should wait a little longer, for the morphine to spread," Carlisle protested on medical grounds.

 _Morphine?_ I thought incredulously. _Carlisle wants to give me painkillers while my baby is_ _ **dying**_ _? Hadn't I already demonstrated time and time again that a little pain was nothing too arduous to endure, so long as my son lived?_ I certainly thought I'd made that clear enough in the past two weeks.

 _Was the doctor really going to ignore all of my sacrifices up to this point, and endanger my baby because acting now might cause me some discomfort?_

I was about to scream at him for being so obtuse when Aro, whose hand was still firmly attached to my stomach, beat me to the punch. He shook his head. "There is no time."

At first, the doctor didn't move a muscle. I couldn't see very well from my awkward position on the operating table, but his expression looked torn. Torn between what was medically best for _me_ —the person he cared for a great deal more—and what was medically best for my baby—the person I was willing to give my life for. His bright golden eyes switched indecisively back and forth between my huge abdomen, (which was devoid of clothes and bandages now) and my face. And his latex-gloved hands frittered uneasily in front of his chest.

"Quickly, Carlisle! The child is suffocating!" Aro almost screamed. The hand spread over the surface of my skin spasmed, as though it shared my infant's pain. "If you do not provide an opening, he or she will make one themselves!" he yelled, reminding Carlisle that it was imperative he act _now_ , and not stall any longer. "I believe he or she is already trying!"

This news jolted me. _My baby was already trying to chew its way out of my womb?_ I thought, more shocked than horrified. _Why?_ According to Carlisle's measurements my son, if born now, would still be several weeks premature, according to human phases of development.

 _Was he succeeding?_ came my next worried thought. I wasn't entirely sure whether I wanted him to or not. If he was suffocating—he needed to exit the prison of my womb, pronto. _But had his teeth even grown in, yet?_

Whether or not my son was being successful, that he was making an attempt to bite his way out of me seemed to decide it, for the doctor. "Then, move your hand, Aro!" Carlisle shouted back, rushing in to perform the grisly task assigned to him.

Aro immediately obliged. And no sooner than I felt his fingers lift away from my chilly skin, I saw a flash of gold—Carlisle's hair—before I felt a stab of white-hot pain in my abdomen.

Carlisle had bitten me.

If I hadn't immediately started screaming at the top of my lungs as soon as his razor-sharp teeth sliced through my flesh, I might have thought it was somewhat surreal. Logically, I knew that Carlisle was the best candidate for this, given his nearly unparalleled restraint, and my hopes that he might transfer his animal blood tolerance to me. But in all my fantasies of being transformed into a vampire, I'd always assumed Edward would be the one to finally do it. Or perhaps Alice, given that Edward proved completely unwilling. There was no particular logical reason I'd picked those two—it was just a fanciful sentiment I'd had.

It wasn't like it mattered now.

Another bloodcurdling scream ripped through my throat as I felt Carlisle drag his razor sharp teeth in a rough circle through the layers of skin covering my stomach. Some parts of me, he sliced through smoothly, like butter. And others he had to exert more force. As he moved across one of those areas, I heard an awful, tearing metal sound, like a car door being wrenched open.

The pain of Carlisle carving into me was intense. But the familiar burning sensation of venom—which I had anticipated would accompany his movements—was suspiciously absent. I could _feel_ the fluid entering my system, since it was slightly thicker and slightly heavier than the human blood already in my veins. But astonishingly, the mere presence of venom in my bloodstream didn't hurt at all.

I suppose that since James' leftover venom hadn't burned once it began to spread again, I shouldn't have been so surprised that Carlisle's didn't burn either. But in all honesty I thought the reason that James venom didn't hurt was because of the unusual circumstances. That the amount of James' venom in my system was paltry. And that it was almost two years old.

The knowledge that my body reacted the same way to high quantities of Carlisle's very fresh venom was a flooring revelation.

If I hadn't been screaming at the top of my lungs because of another cause, I might have tried to share this information with the curious doctor. No doubt, he would find the info _fascinating_.

But in those moments, aside from shouting myself hoarse, all I could do was twitch on the operating table. And wait until Carlisle was done. Speaking—even about something potentially very important—was completely out of the question.

When Carlisle's blond head resurfaced from my belly a few minutes later, I was only able to catch a tiny glimpse of his red-smeared jaw. Then black spots suddenly swarmed my vision, blocking him out. I guessed the blood loss was making me woozy.

"Aro, the membrane is thicker than I thought," Carlisle noted, sounding distraught.

Aro snarled. "Then bite harder!"

"I don't want to harm her more than necessary!" Carlisle pleaded.

As the two men argued, my eyesight faded erratically in and out. Under the cold, white, overhead lights, everything looked distorted. Unnatural. Wrong.

When my vision went dark again, I noticed that the agony caused by Carlisle's bite was slipping. The throbbing aches and pains in my severed muscles and membranes faded away until they hardly bothered me anymore.

At first, I thought this was a good sign.

Until, in a horrifying instant, my vision went completely dark. And at the same time, everything beneath the chest went completely numb.

This sudden sensory deprivation was terrifying. Without my sense of sight or most of my sense of touch, I felt like I was falling, falling, falling, into some unfathomable, black pit from which I could never escape. The loss was so acute, my heart faltered for a second.

Mercifully, my ears still appeared to function just fine. "We're going to have to perform CPR!" I heard Carlisle shout. He started to give Aro instructions, before he abruptly remembered that he'd passed all of his medical knowledge to the ancient through his memories.

Almost immediately, I felt the pressure of two hands interlocked over my chest. They pumped up and down at a steady rhythm that was neither too fast, nor too slow. _One. Two. Three. Four._ Aro had started compressions.

"Get her breathing!" Carlisle urged him. "We must extract the fetus before—"

I heard another _crack_.

Logically, I knew it was a broken bone—my broken bone. But at this point my whole body was too numb to feel anything. There was a jelly-like sound of limbs flopping. Probably my legs going limp, I reasoned. But since my body wasn't registering any of this, I almost got the impression that it was happening to someone else, rather than me.

"Her spine," Carlisle choked in horror.

My head was swimming now, dizzy and disoriented all of a sudden. I couldn't make sense of anything, now, other than the sudden influx of more pain. Shortly after the _snap,_ my lungs had started to ache something fierce. For some unfathomable reason, I was losing oxygen.

"Now is not the time for restraint, Carlisle! Get the child out!" Aro yelled towards his younger companion. "She will not feel a thing, now!" he added in a voice frenetic with anxiety, to convince Carlisle that he could do no more harm to me with his bites, no matter how strong they had to be to rip through the last layers of my amniotic sac.

I assumed, based on the doctor's sudden silence that he summarily complied with Aro's harried demands. But since I couldn't feel anything down there—and certainly not the stabbing agony of additional vampire bites—I had no clue whether that was the case or not.

After several, eerily silent moments that felt like infinity, to my surprise, I felt a pair of unfamiliar, cool lips press against mine and blow a lungful of air into my mouth. Immediately I felt my lungs expand, and my head grow clearer. The same mouth touched mine again—Aro's mouth, my re-oxygenated brain suddenly determined.

This wasn't exactly how I'd imagined our first kiss.

But I wasn't about to complain. The cool air he was breathing into me was keeping me alive. And gradually restoring my sense of sight.

As my eyes wearily flickered open, Aro pulled back. I watched in fascinated horror as he unconsciously licked his lips. They were stained bright red with my blood.

 _Did Aro bite me too?_ I wondered, puzzling over why my nearly full-body numbness would have dulled away _that_ potent sensation, and not the feather-like brushing of Aro's lips against mine. _Or were my lips still covered in blood from my vomiting before?_ I realized was the more sensible alternative.

My heart thumped unevenly, like it had a limp or something. I begged it to keep going, knowing that a heartbeat was vital to survive the transformation process. But I worried it was losing battle.

Aro continued to fight valiantly to keep me alive, blowing another gust of air into my body. Then performing a few more compressions. However, despite the ancient's best efforts, my heart grew weaker and weaker. And the black dots filled my vision again, causing me to blink in and out of consciousness.

In one of my more lucid moments, I saw Carlisle duck his head over my belly again. Then I heard the same jolting sound from before, like metal getting shredded. The sound reminded me of the fight with Victoria so many months ago—the tearing sound of vampire flesh being ripped apart.

Unnervingly, I still couldn't feel anything down there. But I knew that Carlisle was using his teeth to cut through the last, thickest layer of venom-hardened skin surrounding my baby.

I could only hope that he was not too late.

Aro blew more air into my lungs. But this time, for some indiscernible reason the air didn't go down quite right. I coughed, and blinked, suddenly blind again. My eyes rolled wildly, desperately trying to locate the two men at my bedside again. But it was useless. I couldn't see anything. The world surrounding me was empty, black and cavernous.

"Bella! Bella!" Aro pleaded, his voice ragged with desperation. "Stay with me, Bella!" he begged, like his life depended on it. "You cannot leave me! You must keep your heart beating for a little while longer!"

 _I'm trying!_ I thought, as the blackness spiraled around me. I tried to focus on my heart. To find out if it was still beating. But it was no use. I think the inside of my chest had finally gone numb too.

"Please, Bella, I implore you!" Aro nearly sobbed, his angelic voice breaking with emotion. "Live! Live for me!"

I wondered if Aro had been clutching my hands as he'd said this. I hadn't felt anything in that region, but that didn't mean squat at this point. I tried to search Aro out with my eyes, to see what was going on—and perhaps to assure him that I was still alive, despite how delirious, and light-headed I felt. But I still couldn't see. Everything had turned white now—inverted from its previous hue.

And I felt like I was sinking. Slipping on an unseeable icy surface and plunging head-first into the freezing, watery depths of a frozen lake. Drowning. My limbs too heavy and paralytic to even tread water, but instead hanging at my sides as lead weights as I sunk deeper and deeper into oblivion.

I couldn't see. I couldn't feel. I couldn't think. I couldn't _breathe._

Another screeching, crunch sound reached my ears, followed by an unbearable silence.

After a few horrible moments, Aro's lips brought precious oxygen back into my system.

Then, miracle of miracles, I heard an infantile whimper.

 _Was that, my baby?_ I dared to hope.

"It's a girl," I heard Carlisle say.

Had I been physically capable of such an action, I would have jumped in my seat. _So I'd been wrong,_ I realized with no small measure of shock. _My baby wasn't the perfect, miniature replica of Edward I'd imagined. She was a girl instead._

I felt confusion. And then the tiniest hint of betrayal—as though Mother Nature had let me down by letting me believe for so long that my baby was the opposite gender.

Just as quickly as that feeling came on, however, a new feeling replaced it. A feeling of all-encompassing warmth. _I have a baby girl!_ I thought, my heart bursting with unparalleled happiness. _How wonderful!_

Instantly, I had another requirement for survival. I needed to hold her, this new, miraculous child of mine that Carlisle had just extracted. It wasn't an option, despite the thick lethargy weighed everything inside me down, keeping my arms pinned numbly at my sides and my eyes firmly shut. It was a necessity.

With every ounce of willpower that I possessed, I reached deep within my weary muscles, and willed my limp arms to reach toward Carlisle's voice. I forced my tired eyes open, with all the stress and resistance involved in manually opening two heavy garage doors. And I commanded my dry, blood-stained lips to move.

"Let me…" I croaked in a broken whisper. I tried to lift my hands higher, but they were unresponsive, only hovering a few inches above the cold operating table. "Give her to me…" I pleaded hoarsely.

As my eyes struggled to readjust to the light, I caught sight of a dark shape. It was Aro, holding my blood-smeared daughter delicately in his arms. For a moment, he stood perfectly still as Carlisle frantically checked the array of beeping monitors surrounding me. But I wasn't given much time to revel in the sight. Only a few seconds passed before Aro obliged my request.

He settled the baby snugly against my bare chest. The flesh-to-flesh contact suddenly made me aware of the fact that I was completely naked, but I was too preoccupied with the little creature in front of me to feel ashamed of my nudity. Aro himself hardly seemed to notice as he helped lift my weary hands the rest of the way up so that I could cradle her in my arms.

The bright overhead lights threw sparkles off of Aro's hands as he drew back from us. But to my dismay the tiny fractals of light were tinged with a dark red. Soaked in blood, I realized with a jolt. My darling baby girl, who felt peculiarly hot—like, Jacob's intense temperature—was also smeared in the fluid. Her entire, tiny body felt slick in my arms. And as her miniature limbs flailed against my skin, they dripped with blood.

In spite of the carnage, however, she was breathtaking. My little daughter did not cry, but instead breathed in quick, startled pants. Her eyes were wide open. And her expression was so shocked—so stunned that she was facing me now, rather than ensconced in the prison of my flesh—that it was almost funny. Her little, perfectly round head was covered in a thick layer of matted, bloody curls. And her irises were a familiar—but astonishing—chocolate brown.

I'd expected to see green eyes, like Edward had possessed as a human. Or even the scarlet hue of newborn vampires. But not this. Not _my_ eye-color reflected in this astonishing little creature.

To my complete surprise however, the attribute did nothing but enhance her features. I'd worried every day for the past few weeks that any genes my child might obtain from me would be a detraction, an ugliness. But, despite taking mostly after me—brown eyes, rosy cheeks, a button nose—every part of my daughter's tiny face was so absolutely perfect that it floored me.

Knowing what I now knew about my missing husband, I felt a flush of gratitude for the fact that she shared minimal visual similarities with him. I realized with a guilty jolt that it would be much easier to love someone who didn't constantly remind me of the incubus who'd seduced and abandoned me to die. But somehow, in spite of my plain genetics, she was even more beautiful than her father. Which was unbelievable. Impossible.

"So beautiful," I cooed as I drank in everything.

The impossible face suddenly smiled—a wide, deliberate smile. I couldn't help but gasp as I saw it. For, behind my daughter's shell-pink lips was a full complement of perfectly straight, teeth. Teeth which were milky white, except for the tips, which were rimmed with red. Probably from trying to bite her way out.

The sight honestly unnerved me, a little. But I quickly shook away any fear or revulsion I might have had, and tried to focus on the present.

"Nessa," I breathed out, using her name for the first time. I repeated the word a few times in awe, still not quite believing that I'd made it this far.

After hearing me say her name probably seven times, my baby leaned her curl-bearing head down, and settled the mass against my chest. After a moment, she buried her head happily into the softness she found there, like she was nuzzling a particularly comfy pillow. Her skin was so hot as it rubbed against mine it was almost burning—though I didn't dare let go. And it was silky-smooth, but also resilient and unyielding like her father's.

Everything was so dreamily perfect for a few seconds as I clutched my precious daughter to my chest that I had absolutely no preparation for what happened next. One moment, I was glowing with motherly happiness. And the next I felt like I was being stabbed. I gasped as I felt the pain of tiny teeth ripping through the skin just above my heart.

Immediately, Carlisle snatched her away—tearing Nessa, my lovely baby, out of sight.

I wanted to scream at him. _No! Give her back to me!_ Until I saw the blood leaking from a deep, double-crescent-shaped wound marring my otherwise pale breast. And more dribbling from my beautiful daughter's mouth.

 _She'd_ _ **bitten**_ _me,_ I thought half-incoherently before my eyes rolled back into my head. And everything went white again.

"Ah, ah, ah," I heard Aro clucking towards Nessa, like he was chiding my daughter for bad manners.

My heart skipped a beat.

Immediately, albeit faintly, I registered Aro's hands on my chest, doing compressions. He was so quick to attend to my health, it might have been impressive, had I been lucid enough to appreciate it.

"Aro, I'll take it from here," Carlisle's voice echoed murkily in my ears. "Take the baby."

I didn't witness the exchange, but I felt Aro's hand reluctantly leave my chest. So I assumed he'd taken my baby girl into his arms instead.

I heard Carlisle speak again. "Renata, take this."

 _Renata is here?_ I thought, surprised by this revelation. _How long had she been standing there?_ I certainly hadn't seen her, the few times my eyes had been open. And she'd been dead silent until now.

"What is it?" Renata asked skeptically as the doctor presented her with some foreign instrument.

"It's a syringe filled with my venom," Carlisle calmly explained. "Inject it here." I felt the pads of his fingers point to the skin directly above my heart.

To my surprise, Renata complied immediately. If, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. _Too hard! Too fast!_ I thought as she rammed the sharp implement violently into my sternum.

My heart jolted to life as soon as the large needle punctured it. But it beat much more slowly than usual at first, weighed down by the heavy sludge from Carlisle's syringe. Eventually though, my sluggish heart adjusted to the new viscosity filling its ventricles, and picked back up in speed.

"Will that be enough?" Aro inquired, worried.

I certainly hoped so. I was pretty sure any more would be too much of a shock to my system. My human heart wouldn't be strong enough to pump that much venom around. Besides, most humans who'd been changed had only received one mouthful—since it was unusual to survive more than one bite. So I figured if that was enough for them, it was plenty for me.

Thankfully, Carlisle seemed to agree with my internal reasoning. "It should be," he declared hopefully. "Her heart's beating at a good pace now. And I think I can keep it that way," he added as he took over Aro's previous task of administering chest compressions. I was breathing fine now—at regular intervals, and without interruptions—so the doctor decided that the mouth-to-mouth portion of CPR wasn't necessary.

There was a pregnant pause before Aro asked in a voice filled with trepidation. "Is there any more blood in your stash? The little darling..." He suddenly remembered she had a name. "Nessa... is _thirsty_."

Instantly, I heard rush of wind, followed by a metallic jingle. I assumed it was the sound of Carlisle tossing Aro the key to his safe.

"Go. Feed her now," the doctor urged while he continued pumping my chest. "There's no telling what she might do if she isn't fed," he said in a clipped, frightened tone.

 _No telling what she might do if she isn't fed?_ It hurt that Carlisle mistrusted my baby so much already. _But I guess she did already bite me…_ I weakly acknowledged.

While my head swam with the worry that perhaps Edward had been at least partially right—perhaps my darling baby girl was, in some fashion, a monster—the white lights above me flickered in and out of my vision. I was losing consciousness again, I realized with considerable dismay.

And Aro's footsteps as he dashed off to see to it that my daughter's needs were met, were the last thing I heard before I completely blacked out again.

...

Oblivion was surprisingly more terrifying than I'd expected.

During the last week, I had expected to spend these post-birth moments in exquisite pain. I believed the morphine would numb the aches from my more mundane injuries, since that seemed to still work. But Jonathan's experience had already proved that sedatives and painkillers did nothing to dull the agonizing fire that naturally accompanied a human's transformation into a vampire.

But to my complete surprise, I felt nothing at all.

No heat. No fire. No pain. The scorching torture I'd felt when James had bit me all those months ago nothing more than distant memory.

Even the weird, sludgy feeling I'd felt when Carlisle had first injected his venom into my heart was gone.

In fact, all sensation was gone. I couldn't feel anything.

 _Am I dead?_ I thought, more puzzled than alarmed, as I perhaps should be. I was puzzled because I hadn't imagined that death would feel like this. Granted, I hadn't really bothered imagining what death would be like at all. It was too frightening of a concept. And, despite my constant brushes with it over the years, too unreal to me to ever really consider it in any depth. Just like how I'd never pictured myself a mother until I was one, I guess I'd never really pictured myself as deceased until… well… now…

 _If I am dead, then the afterlife is horribly boring,_ I thought after what felt like hours of complete sensory deprivation and total darkness. _There's nothing to do! Nothing to see. Nothing to feel._

 _Just. Nothing._

 _Well, Carlisle is going to be very disappointed,_ I silently lamented, feeling a pang of sympathy for the devoutly religious vampire. _Unless, he gets to go to heaven, and I'm somewhere else,_ I grimly considered.

 _But if I'm not in heaven, then where am I?_

Wherever I was—if this even was a "where"—it didn't feel like Hell. Everything was too serene—if the black, senseless oblivion I currently occupied could be called that. _Hell was supposed to be brimstone, screaming and agony, though, right? Not… nothingness…._

 _Am I in Limbo?_ I suddenly wondered.

That seemed like an apt description of my current state. Caught in the empty, floating realm between eternal bliss and eternal suffering. It also, theologically made some degree of sense. I'd never been a believer. But I hadn't exactly been a sinner in life either.

I took a few moments to ponder my life, trying to puzzle out if there were any other compelling reasons for me to end up here, trapped in Limbo. Though, as I thought back on my mortal deeds, one particular accomplishment stood out, brighter and better than all the others, in my mind.

Despite all the seemingly insurmountable forces working against me, I'd done it. I'd been strong enough to survive carrying, and giving birth to my gorgeous baby daughter. To sustain her, and nourish her until she was big enough to live without me.

 _I even got to hold her!_ I marveled that I'd been so blessed. Actually living to witness my child in the flesh had been almost more than I'd ever dared hope for.

Obviously, death by childbirth had never been my object. But in the beginning, I'd sort of accepted that my life might be a sacrifice I would have to make in order to see to it that my daughter had a chance in this world. I'd believed that as long as she made it, that I would be able to die happy.

Though now, as I persisted in this insensate, black void, I realized that I wasn't. Not really.

I absolutely didn't harbor any regrets. Given a second opportunity, I would have died again for my baby. I loved her so much that no sacrifice was too great, not even my own existence. But as I pondered where she might be right now—staring with those same, shocked, chocolate brown eyes up at Aro as he lovingly bottle-fed her some of Carlisle's leftover O positive—I longed to be with her. To be cooing motherly words of love and assurance. To take a wet rag and wipe away the ghastly carnage covering her cherubic face. To even just… feast my eyes upon her for a few more seconds…

Suddenly, the oblivion I occupied wasn't so senseless anymore. I felt a jolt of pain in my heart as I realized that I wouldn't be there to watch my baby grow up. To see her first steps. To hear her first words. To help her with her homework when she went to school. To watch her graduate. Maybe even get married?

Whatever would happen in my daughter's future life, I wouldn't be a part of it. I imagined that Aro would take good care of her—given that that had, effectively been my dying wish. But the notion that he would have to do it alone, to raise my daughter devoid of a mother, and devoid of the woman he'd already grown such intense feelings for, pricked my heart. My daughter didn't deserve that! And Aro, with all that he'd abandoned to be by my side—including, possibly, the entire Volturi organization— _definitely_ didn't deserve that!

A lone tear escaped my left eye and rolled down my cheek.

 _Wait. Tears?_ I thought, confused by the sudden bodily sensation. _I'm crying? But I'm dead!_ I rationalized in protest. _And if I'm not—if Carlisle's venom actually worked, then something is dreadfully wrong. Vampires aren't supposed to cry!_

More tears followed the first, until my cheeks burned and smelt strongly of salt. The sudden influx of not only one, but _two_ senses startled me. _This is… this is impossible. I can't possibly be…_ _ **alive**_ _? Can I?_

As if to confirm my suspicions, suddenly more sensory information started to penetrate my world of oblivion.

First, the cold, hard feeling of Carlisle's operating table beneath my paralyzed body slowly registered. Like a camera gradually coming back into focus.

It was followed by the delicious, vinegary, metallic scent of blood. I tasted some of it on my tongue too, I was astonished to notice. Though it was cooler than I was accustomed to, probably left over from when I'd thrown up.

And then, even though my eyes remained firmly shut, I started to feel the brightness of the overhead lamps burning the fronts of my eyelids. Evidence that my sight was gradually returning.

Each feeling started out dull, and grew progressively stronger over time. There reached a point where I was certain that my senses were fully restored. Aside from my sight being barred due to fiercely shut eyelids. And my hearing being absent due to my ears being clogged with some thick, mysterious liquid, of course.

But for some, indescribable reason, the intensifying of my senses didn't stop there. The feeling of the cold table beneath me. The pleasant tang of blood on my tongue. And the salty smell of tears on my cheeks. All of them only continued to grow sharper, and sharper. Until they were so powerful—so completely overwhelming—that I almost wished that I was back in oblivion again.

It was too much to take in. The cold metal table beneath me was so freezing it almost burned my skin. My tongue felt like it was drowning in vinegar now, despite the fact that only a few drops of blood lingered there. And my cheeks smelt like all the salt contained in the entire Pacific Ocean had been dumped summarily on my face. The sensory bombardment was painful.

At least, at first.

After a few moments of peculiar agony, my body rapidly adjusted to the new norm. Suddenly my mind could anticipate and adequately process the onslaught on information like it was nothing unusual.

Once it was no longer unbearable to feel everything, I started to notice even more sensations. Like the strange _pitter-patter_ of tiny dust motes tapping my skin. A strong, hot electrical smell. The regular rhythm of sterile air flowing in an out of my nostrils. More smells—chemical smells, like chlorine and ammonia.

And the gurgling feeling of that odd, murky liquid leaving my ears.

At long last, my ears popped, and Esme's, melodic, but tremulous voice, reached me. Despite her mourning tone, I was awestruck by the sound. Her voice wasn't a musical bell, as I'd initially supposed. Instead it was rich, resonant and full—an entire symphony of flawless, harmonious notes.

"Is she… dead?" Esme murmured quietly from somewhere far away. Perhaps even in the other room. It was a little hard to tell. She _sounded_ close, given how clearly and wonderfully I could hear her voice. But then again, with how sharp all of my other senses were all of a sudden, I couldn't be certain.

"No, she's going to be fine." Carlisle insisted, his voice equally stunning—like I'd never really listened closely enough to it before. Though his was _much_ louder than his wife's, corroborating my theory that he stood directly beside me, and his wife stood further away.

As Carlisle spoke, his breath mingled with the stagnant air, bringing in a new scent. It was sweet and pleasant, like honey and lavender. Though distinctly not the edible sort of sweet. More the burnt-incense kind. And burnt was a good word, because there was a sharp edge to it, bright and a little bit intimidating.

I heard a few mechanical beeps and whirrs during the silence that ensued. Sounds from the advanced medicinal machines surrounding me in this high-tech room. I was surprised that I could listen to them all at once, and discern them individually despite their uneven, syncopated rhythms and similar pitched tones. One of the machines sounded like a heart-rate monitor—at least, if Mozart had ever composed a song that mimicked a heart-rate monitor. And to my relief it was beeping quite steadily.

"Come closer and listen to her heart, Esme," the doctor warmly encouraged his wife. "It's stronger than even Emmett's was," he marveled, like I was some kind of scientific wonder. "I've never heard anything so vital."

As Esme walked closer, I registered another distinct, sweet smell. It was similar to Carlisle's, though hers was more like lavender and pear. It had the same bright edge as her husband. And I couldn't tell exactly why, but it instinctively felt like a warning of some sort.

"And her—her spine?" came Aro's tentative voice, also from the other side of the room.

Immediately, his scent mixed with the others, fainter but still discernible. I almost gasped as it reached my nostrils. It was an intoxicating pine, cinnamon and sun-flavored aroma. An aroma that was spicy, sharp and masculine in all the right ways. And I was glad to discover that it lacked the bright, sharp edge that Esme and Carlisle's had.

My only complaint was that it was too far away for me to get the full experience.

I guessed Aro didn't want to stand too close, in the awful event that I hadn't or wouldn't make it. I could already tell from the wavering timbre of his ten-fold enhanced, feathery voice that the grief would be too much. Despite not having any real relationship with me yet, my death would utterly break him.

I felt a jab of empathetic pain for the man. Then a sudden desire to inform Aro that I was, miraculously, alive. There was no reason for him to needlessly suffer, to be heartbroken in thinking I had perished— _again_ —when no such thing had happened.

Instantly, I fought to move. To grab hold of any part of my body a will it into action, so that the wonderful, beautiful man would know I wasn't dead. That he would know that I lived. And know that I was very ready, now that I'd survived this harrowing ordeal and joined the immortal club, to "accept his suit".

But no matter how hard I tried to reach upwards, my arms were as heavy and useless as empty garden hoses as my side. And no matter how hard I tried to kick or thrash in some other way, my limp body remained staunchly unresponsive. My mouth wouldn't move either—small and light as those muscles were. My fingers wouldn't wiggle. And neither would my toes.

As a last resort, I tried blinking, since TV had me convinced that sometimes unconscious patients could use that to communicate. But even that relatively simple motion was impossible.

After struggling for a few more moments, I decided It was useless. I wasn't going to be able to move. And therefore, I had no way of telling the aggregate of vampires surrounding me that I was alive.

Thankfully, Carlisle seemed to be on my side. "Her injuries weren't any worse than Esme's," he noted to assure Aro. "The venom will heal her just the same."

I liked the sound of the doctor's confidence. It was so much more refreshing than all the skepticism, caution and worry I'd been receiving from him as of late.

"But she is so still," Aro murmured in a frightened whisper. "She should not be this still," he said a little louder, but no less scared. "Might dearest Isabella be…"—his voice broke—"... _trapped in a coma_?"

If I hadn't been totally paralytic, I might have flinched on the freezing metal table.

 _A coma?_ I panicked. _Could that be what this weird limbo was? It certainly would explain why I can't move. And doctors do say that sometimes coma patients can hear stuff…_

Inwardly I frowned. Unfortunately Aro's theory made a lot of sense.

 _Though it wouldn't explain why everything I'm feeling and hearing is so acute…_

Speaking of hearing things, I could hear Carlisle's frown. "I don't think so," he affirmed. Though the slight waver in his voice betrayed his true uncertainty. "Perhaps it's a side effect of the morphine," he contributed, sounding ashamed that he couldn't be more sure. "I gave Jonathan both morphine _and_ a sedative after I bit him, so it's impossible to know how much of his stillness was due to the morphine alone."

 _God, even his embarrassment sounds like a musical number,_ I thought. _What on earth is happening to me?_

Another smell assaulted my nose as Emmett inhaled to speak. His scent was like rising bread and apples. And also burnt. Or whatever that strange brightness I smelt was.

"I don't see what all the fuss is about," Emmett interjected casually. "She's only been out for a couple of hours," he noted with what sounded like a heavy shrug. "She'll come 'round."

I stopped marveling at how beautiful everyone's voices were, and how great they smelled for a minute to consider the content of Emmet's sentences. _I've only been out for two hours?_ I processed with no small measure of bewilderment. _I certainly felt like I was trapped in limbo for longer than_ _ **that.**_

 _Not to mention that the venom already seems to have enhanced my senses,_ I posited to myself. It seemed like a logical reason for the changes I was experiencing.

"I do so very much wish that dear Alice was here," Aro suddenly lamented. "Certainly, she would know the outcome," he pointed out.

Carlisle nervously cleared his throat, probably concerned about Aro's true motives for wishing his clairvoyant daughter were present. Though, after a few moments, he relaxed.

"Yes, it would be nice to have a clearer picture of the future," Carlisle concurred. "But it appears we'll just have to wait."

...

To my extreme delight, the morphine in my system, which was keeping me pinned to the table, burned completely away only a couple hours later. I bubbled over with excitement as I felt my limbs grow progressively lighter. I was so ready to be able to move again. I wanted to leap off of Carlisle's freezing metal operating table. I wanted to hug Aro with all of my might. And then I wanted to tear through the house until I found my daughter, so that I could hold her in my arms again.

I was sick of limbo. And I was even sicker of the infuriating period of time I'd spent after that, overhearing the vampires' conversations without being able to contribute or respond. To be able to hear their pain—especially Aro's pain that he might have lost me—and not be able to do anything to alleviate it was pure Hell.

So that it was finally coming to an end was a fact that made my heart leap inside my chest for joy. I almost launched myself into the air in celebration when my limbs reached their normal weight. But surprisingly, like my senses, they didn't stay there. My arms and legs kept growing light and lighter, until they turned almost feather-light, for how easy they were to move.

And then finally, when I felt _almost_ weightless—though not quite—it stopped.

The first movement I made was to open my eyes. And then I peered around in wonder at my surroundings for what felt like the first time.

Everything was so… _new_. The world that greeted my vision was brighter than I'd ever thought possible. Yet surprisingly it didn't hurt my eyes. And there were so many details, so many unfamiliar patterns and textures suddenly boosted to an insane resolution, that for a split second, I forgot where I was. The room looked so different now, that I didn't recognize it.

The brilliant light overhead still blared in my eyes. Yet I could plainly see each glowing strand of filament inside the bulb, and every little imperfection in the surface of the bulb itself. Behind the light, I could distinguish the individual wood grains in the dark wood ceiling above. And in front of it, I was surprised that I could pinpoint each tiny dust mote in the air. The sides the light touched and the dark sides distinct and separate. They spun around lazily above me, like little planets, moving around each other in a celestial dance.

The dust was so beautiful that I inhaled in shock; the air whistled down my throat, swirling the motes into a vortex. As my lungs filled, I felt the familiar sensation of relief as the oxygen rushed into me. The relief that told me I still needed to breathe.

 _That_ part of my transformation was evidently not yet complete. But I'd already suspected as much. The steady _ba_ - _dump_ of my heart, and the light tickling of air I'd felt in my nose earlier were hard to ignore.

And yet, there was so much information in that air now that I had a hard time imagining I would _want_ to give up breathing entirely. Even once it no longer became necessary. So many amazing smells and tastes…

But I was soon distracted by my ridiculously sensitive ears. The TV in the living room was muted, and yet I could still hear its low hum. I also heard someone—Esme, perhaps?—shift her weight in that other room, despite it being on the other side of the house.

Finally, Carlisle seemed to notice that I was awake. "Everyone, come here!" the doctor cried happily. "Look! She's moving!"

Immediately the sound of four pairs of rushing feet greeted my ears. A considerable amount of rustling followed their steps as all the inhabitants of the room shuffled into an acceptable semi-circle around the operating table. An overwhelming influx of smells—several, unique, sweet, sunny smells—bombarded my nose as they all crowded in next to me.

I was surprised to recognize all of them from before. Well, all except one. There was a new smell replacing Esme's, this one like vanilla, leather and sage.

All of a sudden, four, gorgeous, familiar, anxiously on-looking faces greeted my vision. I recognized everyone in the group—Aro, Carlisle, Renata and Emmett. But each vampire looked markedly different than I remembered. Their faces were even sharper, more clearly chiseled and defined, if that was even possible, and more beautiful than I'd thought humanly possible. It was almost like I was seeing them for the first time. And yet, somehow, it was still obvious that they were the same people.

Under the harsh, white light of the overhead lamps, their skin sparkled magnificently, throwing dazzling rainbows everywhere. Though, amidst the bright streaks of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and purple, there was an eighth color, for which I had no name. A color which startled me.

"Umpf!" I involuntarily exclaimed, frightened by the surreal sight.

"Bella!" Aro's impossibly-more-gorgeous-than-before doppelganger suddenly cried in alarm. "Are you in pain?!" he pleaded to know, his buttery notes frazzled, and hysterical.

Emmett snorted at Aro's reaction. "Of course she's in pain!" he said offhandedly, tossing a hulking arm in my direction. "The venom has got to be _frying_ her, now!"

 _Well, it isn't,_ I thought with an inward frown. _If anything, I'm a bit cold._

I disrupted my steady breathing pattern to inhale a little more air through my nose than usual. "I'm not hurt," I explained in a surprisingly clear, even voice. A voice that, bizarrely enough, contained the same, lovely, orchestral quality as everyone else's voices.

Involuntarily I jerked back from the sound. _Was that…? Was that_ _ **my**_ _voice?_

Aro mimicked my surprise for half of a second before he swiftly composed himself. His fingers suddenly reached for one my immobile hands—the left one. His digits trembled with anticipation, as though he were expecting something momentous to happen once our skin connected.

And something momentous did happen. Aro's flesh was perfectly smooth, astonishingly soft, and _warm_ as it collided with mine, despite the fact that my scar from my encounter with James was on the _other_ wrist. The venom had been moving so sluggishly before. The evidence that it had already spread to my other hand came as huge shock.

Immediately, I wondered how much more of me had been altered. Emmett had said that I'd only been out for a few hours, so there was no way, even with Carlisle's fresh venom in my system, that I should be _entirely_ transformed just yet. That process still took two or three days.

So there were probably still portions of me that remained human. But it was not immediately obvious which portions those were. I knew my lungs and heart were among them. But what else had not yet been touched by Carlisle's speedy venom?

I itched to have a mirror and some sunlight. And maybe even an X-ray. So that I could see for myself just how far the venom had progressed. But before I could expend the effort to ask, Aro beat me to the punch with a pressing query of his own.

"The venom is not hurting you?" Aro probed, his voice lilting in astonishment.

I swiftly shook my head. "No. Not at all."

Aro's fingers lifted away from my left hand. They glided across my wrist and traced their way absently up my arm. His crimson eyes intently followed the path he drew on my skin. Like he was expecting to feel the heat burning inside my veins.

"But… how?" Aro murmured, his eyebrows knitted together in intense confusion. "Carlisle's venom was _fresh_ ," he added with the tiniest, delighted shiver. "So very fresh."

I heaved my shoulders into a small shrug. It wasn't like I had a better idea than anyone else as to why there wasn't any fire accompanying Carlisle's venom. I was definitely grateful for the absence of that, unforgettable agony. But, since it was unprecedented for a human to turn into an immortal without shrieking, and writhing, it was a bit of a frightening absence all the same.

Carlisle abruptly cut in. "Can you sit up?"

The doctor paused for a sixteenth of a second to dash over to the counter on the other side of the room. He flitted back with a clipboard in one hand. And pen in the other, poised to write down my answer.

For a moment I was much too stunned by the fact that my eyes had followed the doctor's impossibly fast movements completely, to speak. His pristine white lab coat hadn't blurred for even a moment. He'd been one-hundred-percent crystal clear in my vision the entire time.

The breathy sound of Aro lightly sniffing the air shook me out of my thoughts. "Her blood no longer smells of morphine," he informed Carlisle. "So Isabella should be capable of movement just fine."

I decided to test out whether or not Aro was right. I was just planning to maybe swivel my legs over the side of the table and try to stand up. But as soon as the thought had crossed my mind, I was already moving.

In a flash I was on my feet, standing, slightly crouched on the cool, linoleum floor. How quickly I'd lighted off of the operating table and, how easily I'd landed, without a cinch, startled me. Because of how light my own limbs now felt, there wasn't the usual delay between thought and action anymore. As soon as a movement entered my mind, it was already done.

It was slightly frightening actually. And extremely disorienting. For a few seconds, I decided to test out these new reflexes. I zipped around Carlisle's medical lab like a lightning streak, standing, sitting, jumping, cartwheeling—anything I could think of—as I moved effortlessly throughout the room.

It was so weird. Especially the part where my vision remained perfectly clear, rather than blurring like I was accustomed to, during such rapid movement. Each individual mote of dust in the air was still discernible. Along with every tiny thread in my hospital gown. Even while I rushed around, twisting and soaring through the air.

But now I understood exactly how vampires could move so fast.

In fact, I was even starting to worry, as I flitted back and forth, touching one end of the room, and then the other in fractions of a second, that this new, extreme speed, was now my _only_ speed.

After the first minute, I tried to force myself to slow down. To envision the actions I was performing taking longer. But I only had a marginal amount of success. Instead of whipping through the room like a flash of lightning, I ran across it like an Olympic sprinter.

The four vampires in the room stood back during my experiment, stricken speechless by my restlessness and sudden speed.

After a few tense moments, Emmett, whose golden eyes had been anxiously following my movements the entire time, excused himself from the room. I didn't quite catch his murmured reasons. But I could understand the idea that dealing with a wacko, nearly-newborn vampire like myself wasn't his forte.

Mercifully, the other three, Carlisle, Renata and Aro stayed.

After watching me frantically, wildly move about for several minutes, Aro hesitantly called after me. "Bella?"

The beautiful sound startled me more than it should. And my now ludicrously light-weight body instinctively reacted in the most bizarre of ways. The muscles in my torso and legs automatically curled away from the noise. And before I could really properly process what was happening, I'd performed a flawless backflip, landing flat on my feet, poised like a feral cat, and ready to scratch someone's eyes out.

I even hissed like one. A fierce, terrifying sound that frightened even me.

Aro knew it was not a good idea to scare an already on-edge, nearly-newborn vampire. He paced back slowly a few steps to give me some more space. And held up both of his hands in a gesture of meaning-no-harm.

"I did not mean to frighten you," Aro purred in wonderful, velvety tones. "I simply wanted to ask if everything is alright. Or if there is anything I can do to help," he offered rather graciously. "The new reflexes and heightened senses can be rather overwhelming at first."

Carlisle, who stood nervously to Aro's left bobbed his head quickly in agreement.

 _Uh, yeah,_ I inwardly concurred with the two men. _They're not kidding. Even though my head feels fine, physically, this is so much to take in its dizzying. So many new textures and colors, sounds and smells… not to mention this weirdly fast and graceful body._ I, mean, when I was human, I'd never even attempted a backflip—it was too risky, given how clumsy and uncoordinated I was. But now, it was as easy as snapping my fingers.

My head abruptly twisted to the left as I heard the sound of someone's skin moving. It was tiny, almost inaudible thing. But I noticed all the same. It was the sound of Renata furrowing her brow in concentration, I was surprised to realize.

I was also astonished to see that she looked exhausted. The skin around her eyes was a dark purple. And her fists were clenched tight, like she was constantly fighting some invisible battle. She looked like she was straining to keep her wits about her, but it was starting to take its toll on her.

 _She's still trying to keep Jacob away,_ I realized with a jolt.

Feeling a surge of pity for the woman, I was about to inform her that diverting Jacob was no longer necessary—that I was certain Carlisle and Esme could find somewhere to hide my baby, while I explained my childhood friend that I was fine. And Edward wasn't around for him to rip apart, anyway.

But as soon as I opened my lips to tell her this, the sterile lab air scraped painfully down the arid sides of my throat. A sudden, scorching fire bloomed in that area—which at first I mistook for the burning of venom in my throat. Until I realized that the feeling wasn't quite right. Venom, despite the heat it generated, was a wet and sticky experience. This sensation I felt now was far too dry to be that. Bone dry, in fact. Like the Sahara desert had suddenly taken up residence in my mouth.

I gasped at how acute the dryness felt. I was suddenly sure that every tiny particle of water had abandoned my desiccated tongue. Even growing up in Arizona, I'd never felt this parched in my entire life. It was awful. It was agony. Worse, even—thanks to my recently sharpened senses—than every bone-shattering kick my child had ever delivered, combined.

Automatically, both of my hands flew to my throat. I clawed at the arid body part, as if scratching the outer surface might at least distract me from the horrible sensation of dehydration. Like before, it was a reflex—an instinctive response to my thirst. But this time, I wasn't even worried about what the others would think when they saw it.

The pain was too intense for me to think of anything else.

Except perhaps, the fluid that might alleviate it.

Immediately, I regretted doing so. Imagining the heady aroma and un-paralleled taste of human blood was the last thing I needed right now. A cruel, hair-raising hiss escaped my lips as I pictured myself guzzling it down with a ravenous fervor. And it jolted me that the dryness in my neck had absolutely no preference for whether or not I was slurping this divine substance through a plastic straw, or cutting it out of someone's throat.

Wherever the blood came from didn't matter. As long as it was human…

I tried to shake these morbid thoughts. But the raging fire kept bringing them into the forefront of my mind. I was _so_ thirsty. I couldn't think straight anymore all of sudden.

 _Blood. Blood. Blood,_ my thirst-addled brain chanted mindlessly. _I want it now. I need it._ All of a sudden, I was panting, and my tongue darted out to savagely lick my lips. _I need it now._

Renata, upon witnessing me transform from a reasonably rational, if a bit speedy, creature, into a hissing, throat-clawing menace, simply said, "She needs to hunt," in a very nonchalant voice.

I bristled instantly as I recalled Carlisle's ultimatum, and the horrible things I might be forced to do.

But just as quickly as the ghastly imagines came raining down inside my head once again, I fought valiantly to expunge them. Not because they were frightening—although they certainly were that. But because the feral pictures of me lunging and biting ferociously into some hapless mortal's throat were startlingly _enticing_ all of a sudden. Thick, viscous saliva welled up on my tongue. And thirty-two perfectly straight, horrifyingly sharp teeth clicked together in anticipation.

I wanted _that_ , I realized in acute horror. Abstract things like scruples and morals abruptly seemed secondary, or tertiary even to this all-enveloping desire. _Blood. Blood. I just need the blood,_ my brain chanted deliriously. _Then I can think properly. Then everything will be okay._

"Bella?" Aro began with considerable trepidation. He floated towards me slowly, always keeping his hands where I could see them so that I wouldn't unnecessarily freak out like I had last time. "How bad is the thirst?" he asked once he got close enough to reach out a touch me. He rested a single palm very gently on my shoulder. "Can you concentrate on my voice, Bella?"

I tried to focus on the chocolaty tones of his voice. To lose myself in their richness, and let the dulcet notes serve as a balm to the white-hot burning in my mouth.

But it didn't exactly work. The pain was too much.

I surprised myself by whimpering pathetically in response to Aro's question.

"It's so intense!" I cried. "It was bad before, but…"

I hissed, clutching my throat again as the fire surged hotter. Hotter than I'd ever believed it possible to feel without spontaneously combusting.

Aro looked grim all of a sudden. "I see," he acknowledged. Then, his regal face twisted towards his younger, blond companion. "Carlisle?"

The doctor heaved a heavy, mournful sigh. "I know what you want, Aro, but for now, I think it's best if we use the leftover blood we have for the baby."

Carlisle explained this in a labored voice. As though making this decision—while it certainly was the smart one—was a harrowing ordeal, all the same.

"Nessa's not old enough to hunt for herself, but Bella is," Carlisle added, to justify his choice. "And I did warn Bella beforehand that once she was changed… Or at least… mostly changed…" he amended upon seeing something that was apparently still human. "…that she would need to hunt for herself."

"I am aware…" Aro said hesitantly. "I had simply hoped we would have more time. I have not been able to make any arrangements…"

"So…" I interrupted the two men. "How do we do this?"

I'd never been hunting before. Not properly anyway. But now that my vampire-teeth had apparently come in, it seemed like everyone expected me to already automatically know what I was doing.

But I didn't.

All I knew was that I wanted to pounce, to bite, to drink—the gory images bombarding my mind seemed to suggest as much. And while I was reasonably certain that _those_ skills would come quite naturally to me now, there was so much lead up to that.

The selection of the prey. The stalking. Waiting for the right moment and the right place to strike...

How was I supposed to know how to do any of that? I'd never been taught…

Aro shook his head. That small gesture explained that he thought there was another question that was more pertinent. " _What_ exactly do you wish to hunt, my dear?"

Aro gestured between Carlisle and himself. As if to suggest that I had two drastically different options. And that, depending on which option I chose, the process would be _very_ different.

I froze at his question, realizing that I was at an important fork in the road.

As my throat throbbed, it frightened me to know that it would be so easy to say _humans_ and let Aro whisk me off to Seattle. To say that one, delicious word, and let myself, in this new, strong, savage state, pounce on and drain some unsuspecting homeless person, caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. And it would taste, so, so good.

But it wouldn't be the right thing to do.

"A-animals," it took all of my willpower to stammer out. "I want to try animals again," I added a bit more resolutely.

I fought to keep away the memories of that Pepto Bismol-like scent, so that they didn't completely destroy my resolve.

 _I can do this,_ I pep-talked to myself. _If Rosalie can do it, then so can I,_ I declared as somewhat of a personal challenge.

Aro nodded somberly in acceptance of my request. He turned to the blond vampire beside him. "Carlisle, would you be willing to take, her, then?"

Carlisle beamed—a dazzling, eight-color rainbow smile. "I would be delighted to."


	17. Chapter 17: First Hunt

**AN: Sorry for the long hiatus, guys! Between getting married and job hunting, I haven't had a lot of free time.**

* * *

 _"One may know how to conquer without being able to do it."_

― Sun Tzu, The Art of War

…

CHAPTER 17: FIRST HUNT

Carlisle and I took off immediately, bolting out of the house and disappearing into the lush forest. As our feet flew across the grass it was still impressive to me that I could keep up with the doctor's lightning pace. But even more impressive was that my new eyes could see so much detail in our surroundings, even as they whipped past us.

I could discern each individual leaf and pine needle on the trees around us—their edges pristine and sharp. Thousands of tiny droplets of dew were visible to me now, still clinging to verdant blades of grass and suspended atop silky spider webs. The little globes of water glistened like crystals in the slivers of sunlight filtering through the trees. And the rough texture of tree bark appeared as a series of intricate crevices and hills. Crevices and hills which were populated with tiny brown insects—insects I was certain I could not have seen without the aid of a microscope before—scurrying around and burrowing into the wood with their strange teeth.

It was all so fascinating I almost failed to notice the most important thing about my new environment. That is, what it was doing to my skin.

The thin yellow rays of light that penetrated the trees shone over my body in uneven stripes. And within those stripes, portions of my skin illuminated in a vitiligo-like pattern, the surface still dull and human in patches, but immortal and diamond-like in others. The little flecks of rainbow light I was throwing everywhere were beautiful—even if they didn't yet cover my entire body. And it took all of my concentration to keep running and not abruptly halt in the grass to stare at them.

Despite being several feet in front of me, the sparkles dancing off my skin seemed to catch Carlisle's attention too. He didn't stop running towards whatever our end-goal was either—but his head did swivel to look at me. He scrutinized the glittering scene for a moment before his angelic face scrunched with confusion and mild concern.

"The venom really doesn't hurt?" Carlisle asked while we ran, completely disbelieving.

I shook my head rapidly, my mahogany hair tossing in the wind. "Not at all, I can hardly even feel it." And that was the truth. The only thing that hurt right now was the fire in my throat. The fire Carlisle was hoping to help me extinguish.

"What does it feel like?" Carlisle probed, still sounding a little worried, but mostly curious now. I could hardly blame him—my current state was a scientific oddity, after all.

I shifted my arms in front of my body and weighed my own limbs in the air. "Thicker, a bit heavier. Colder." That was the best description I could come up with. "Otherwise, it's indistinguishable from my blood."

Carlisle's worry melted into awe. "Fascinating," he murmured mostly to himself before turning back to face the tangle of trees in front of us.

We whipped through the forest for a few more minutes in companionable silence. As we padded through the thick forest, I watched in awe as we rushed past several gnarled aspens, every crack and imperfection in their chalky bark plainly visible. Thousands of tiny dandelion seeds floated past us, some caressing my skin, and other floating just beyond reach, caught on the gentle breeze. And I nearly gasped as our running disturbed a little flock of butterflies—whose little white wings, marbled with floss-thin veins, carried them frantically out of our path.

In the silence, I could hear the beating of those tiny wings—a soft, airy sound. Along with the steady _ba-dump_ of my still beating heart, (a surprisingly loud sound). And the dull footfalls of our feet as Carlisle an I raced across the temperate forest landscape.

At least, I heard all this until Carlisle suddenly broke the silence to ask another interested question.

"Does your throat still hurt?" he asked a little hesitantly, his eyes firmly affixed on the terrain ahead of us.

Carlisle's question made me groan. I'd been trying to distract myself from the pain for a while by focusing on the doctor's words, and—when we lapsed into silence—making environmental observations. But his direct confrontation of the issue forced the flames licking the inside of my neck to surge hotter.

I hissed, a surprisingly feral sound, as the thirst scraped deeper into my tissues. And I couldn't help but scratch at my throat in a vain attempt to alleviate the pain.

"I'll take that as a yes," Carlisle accepted glumly, still not daring to look back at me. At least, not until his next words—words he delivered while gazing piercingly over his shoulder. "Don't worry, we're almost there. You'll be able to hunt soon."

I nodded with a sour look on my face. Half because there was any wait at all—no matter how minute. And half because I still doubted this venture would be more fruitful than my last attempt at drinking animal blood.

Oh sure I desperately _wanted_ it to be. And I wasn't about to leave without giving it a fair shot. But lately, it seemed the universe didn't have my best interests in mind. So I was trying not to be overly optimistic. Failure would be devastating enough without the burden of too high hopes.

A series of grisly images of blood and human carnage swept, unbidden through my mind. I grimaced just picturing it. Just picturing the devastation I would necessarily cause if this little experiment were to fail. Becoming a monster was punishment enough, I decided. There was no need to compound my likely unavoidable grief by holding myself to irrational expectations.

But just as I was starting to banish those ghastly pictures from my mind and try to focus on the present, rather than worry about the future, I caught a flash of black in my peripheral vision. A flash that I apparently thought was threatening. Because the sight of it made me instinctively spin around on my heels, and pause in an athletic crouch.

Maintaining my pose, I observed the dark shape carefully. While it was still miles away, on the very edge of my incredible field of vision, it was coming this way. Fast.

I growled at it, hoping it would be intimidated and go away. But no such luck. Unperturbed by my predatory sounds, the black shape just kept coming closer. And the closer it got, the more nervous I became. My hands started twitching anxiously at my sides. And the human patches of my skin quickly turned slick with sweat.

 _Wow, it really is moving quickly,_ I thought, paralyzed in place with fear. _It must be another vampire. We're the only things that can move_ _ **that**_ _fast._

Realizing that I was no longer following, Carlisle abruptly decelerated in the dewy grass. He skidded to a complete stop a few hundred feet in front of me, shooting hundreds of tiny, crystalline droplets of water into the air in his wake. Then he turned around and slowly walked back to where I crouched, his features warped with bewilderment and concern.

Knowing firsthand that he could hear me perfectly from his current distance, I pointed towards the approaching black and asked at a regular volume. "Who's that?"

My resonant voice shook, betraying my true fear.

But Carlisle's face immediately softened, until only a tiny frown remained. "Aro's decided to follow you," he explained, gesturing casually toward the black shape. It was now close enough to make out the pale shapes of a face and hands. "Aro's worried this won't work. He wants to be here, just in case… well…" Carlisle swallowed uneasily, "In case something goes _wrong_."

Carlisle's words were intentionally vague, probably to spare himself from having to think about that possibility in too much detail. But the doctor didn't have to spell it out for me to understand his meaning.

I straightened up from my crouch immediately. "Oh."

 _Aro wants to be ready to whisk me away to Seattle to hunt humans if this second trial of animal blood doesn't work. He probably_ _ **expects**_ _that this won't work,_ I concluded, bowing my head in preemptive remorse. _And judging by the look on Carlisle's face, he's not so sure it'll work either…._

"I'm sorry," I muttered, folding my weird, venom-filled arms self-consciously over my body. I despised the idea that my biology might make me do something that would make Carlisle feel sick inside. Not to mention was totally immoral.

Carlisle padded across the grass gradually until he was standing directly in front of me. He placed a fatherly hand on my shoulder and looked me directly in the eye—a tender meeting of gold and crimson. "There's nothing to apologize for," he assured me in soft tones. "I should be happy enough that you're willing to give this a second shot."

Carlisle had meant it as encouragement. But his final smile was weak.

And my heart sank at the knowledge that so many vampires took just one whiff, or had one small taste of animal blood, and ran the other direction without looking back.

 _Probability is not on my side in this instance,_ I concluded with a heavy heart.

It never was. If anything, my luck seemed to work in reverse—attracting the rare _undesirable_ outcomes, rather than the rare positive ones.

Of course, that hadn't stopped me from carrying my daughter to term and miraculously surviving the ordeal myself—an unprecedented lucky event.

And I wasn't about to let it stop me now, either.

The black shape—Aro—realizing that we weren't moving, paused just beyond the clarity of my vision. At that distance his lean figure was still blurred and partially obscured by trees. I guess he didn't want to hover too close to Carlisle and I out of respect for our privacy.

"How's the thirst, now?" Carlisle asked, trying to divert my attention away from himself. Away from his discomfort with my potential inability to hunt as he did.

It was, unfortunately, very effective.

I coughed and clutched my throat. "It's like the Sahara in my mouth."

Carlisle chuckled at my comparison. "Ah, it's a good thing our destination is just over this hill then." He pointed to a large mound of grassy earth only a couple football fields' length away. Something we could cross in a matter of seconds.

A lump gathered in my throat at the thought of being so close. So close to the venue hosting the event that would ultimately decide my future. So close to knowing whether I was privileged with the digestive capabilities that would allow me to be a Cullen, or whether I was cursed to be a murderer.

My throat burned just thinking about it. Especially as I remembered Carlisle's warning about animal blood not being completely satisfying.

"Will it still hurt?" I asked raspily, still scratching furiously at my neck. "Even if I succeed?" I tried and failed to keep the desperation out of my voice.

Carlisle gave a morose nod. "A little," he conceded reluctantly. "But a lot less," he offered in consolation. "Though… it is going to be worse for you… since you're a newborn," he finished with a heavy sigh.

 _It's going to be_ _ **worse**_ _? What?_

My face twisted with panic. "Why is that?"

Carlisle ran his fingers nervously through his platinum hair. "The thirst is always worse as a newborn," he explained with a sheepish shrug, as though he didn't quite understand the reason beyond that himself. And as though he was embarrassed for calling himself a scientist when there really were still so many things he didn't understand at all about vampire physiology.

I didn't fault him for it, though. I wasn't like the government gave research grants to vampires to study their own kind. Not to mention I was much more occupied with managing my thirst than anything else right now.

"How did you do it?" I demanded, hoping to learn his secret. "Resist, I mean?"

"At first?" Carlisle tapped his chin in thought and looked up at the yellow rays shining through the canopy of leaves above us. "Avoidance," he answered simply. "And…" he frowned, "… _intense_ self-loathing."

I swallowed thickly. Neither of those were really viable options for me.

Upon seeing my distress, Carlisle quickly switched tactics. "Bella, please know that I do not expect you to be exactly like myself." He shook his hands back and forth in forbiddance. "I am, _abnormal,_ " he emphasized, pointing to his chest.

"But I _want_ to be like you," I protested, balling my fists in self-frustration. Though I kept my tone admiring.

Carlisle looked like he would have blushed, if his cheeks had held any blood. "I'm flattered, Bella." He sounded sincere. "But I don't want you to beat yourself up if you…"

"Screw up?" I offered glibly, avoiding his gaze by staring at my bare feet.

We'd left so quickly that I was still wearing nothing but the flimsy cotton hospital gown supplied after the messy affair of my daughter's birth. A fact that surprised me since the morning air was chilly, and the terrain was reasonably rocky. I guess I just hadn't noticed until now because my new body was incapable of feeling cold, and my new feet were durable enough to withstand unhospitable ground.

"Accidents do happen," Carlisle warned. His voice was soft and empathetic, but also level and deadly serious. "And you may still find that animal blood is—"

 _I'm not in the mood to hear this. I already know._

I cut Carlisle off. "I _will_ swallow today," I promised both him and myself. "I'm not going back home until I do," I declared before starting to march determinedly in the direction Carlisle had indicated was the way a few minutes before.

Carlisle's face darkened as I trod past him, betraying his true fears that even _that_ much might prove impossible. But he wisely didn't push the issue. Instead he turned back to face our destination, and motioned for me to follow him before he broke back into a run. A bit reluctantly, I picked up my pace and followed him. And not long after, I saw the black shape resume movement in my periphery.

Just as I had anticipated, we were over the hill in a matter of seconds.

But to my surprise, there were no animals in sight. Once over the hill, we settled in a wide, circular valley that stretched about a mile across. I heard the faint buzzing of a few stray bumblebees. And heard a couple of songbirds tweeting in the distance. But aside from them, the knee-deep grass, and the occasional wildflower, the only living things in this meadow were Carlisle and I.

I gave Carlisle a momentary bewildered glance, which prompted him to explain.

"There's a booming wildlife population in this area this time of year, so we should see something any minute now. But while we're waiting, I was wondering if we could talk?" Carlisle started wringing his fingers nervously. "There were some things Aro told me while you were sleeping…"

"About you needing to hunt?" I cut in. My voice was a bit abrasive because I'd been expecting immediate food once we bounded over the hill, not an additional delay. "Because I heard that part."

"No, before that," Carlisle clarified gently. It was only when he made a placating gesture towards me that I realized I'd basically growled at him.

I shrank back from him and automatically ducked my head in shame.

"You were definitely asleep for this."

I started chewing nervously on my lower lip. "Okay…"

"Aro decided to…" Carlisle glanced anxiously at the ferns around us like he wasn't sure how to put this. "He decided to tell me the truth about Sulpicia."

I gasped. _Aro actually did that? Wasn't that risky?_

"How did that go?"

I couldn't imagine that Carlisle, with his penchant for honesty would appreciate such lengthy deception. Especially when it was coming from someone the doctor had considered a good friend for over three centuries.

Carlisle rubbed the back of his neck and smiled wryly. "Well, I… already knew."

My head shot up at this. "You knew?"

Carlisle nodded before he decided to tell me how he'd come to this astounding conclusion. He tapped his sensitive nose. "Aro doesn't smell like Sulpicia," he pointed out, like it was an obvious fact. "Ever since he came here, actually, his scent… has been entirely his own."

 _That long?_ I thought, surprised by this news. _Didn't Aro bring any of her venom with him? Or had he forgotten in all the chaos that ensued from Chelsea's death, and my subsequent phone call, to pack some?_

While I puzzled over the logistics, Carlisle continued with his story. "It bothered at first because I assumed that… well… I assumed that he'd lied to me about their connection for nefarious purposes," he related with a sour frown.

Automatically I shook my head. Having heard his story myself, I knew this wasn't true. Aro had only lied about his relationship with Sulpicia to in order to keep the peace.

 _But even after Aro had explained this, did Carlisle feel the same way?_

I worried that he wouldn't.

To my surprise, Carlisle wasn't upset. "It took me until just a few days ago to realize that Aro only lied to me for the same reasons he lied to all the others—that is, to maintain his position in Volterra. To keep himself respected enough to carry out the necessary work of law enforcement."

I nodded vigorously. Carlisle was exactly correct. Which, given his earlier misunderstandings, was quite a feat in my eyes. _Aro must have explained himself quite well._

"I don't really understand what all this… incubus business is about," Carlisle admitted with a limp shrug. He sounded sheepish too, like he was ashamed that he didn't fully grasp that concept yet. "But I can see how Aro's singlehood could promote nasty rumors, since I do not know of any other vampires who have attained more than a millennia of life who have not yet mated."

"Well, aside from the Denali sisters," Carlisle amended suddenly. "But it's been brought to my attention that they… have some rather… _unsavory_ habits," he finished with a disgusted shudder.

 _Quite unsavory, indeed,_ I internally agreed.

"You are not… upset?" I asked, shocked. I was having a hard to believing it.

"I do wish Aro had told me sooner," the doctor confessed with a hint of lingering resentment in his voice. He gazed with a discontented expression back in the forest—back towards where the black figure had come from. "That would have made his earlier calls make a lot more sense."

Carlisle looked back at me now. "It was… _confusing_ for me to listen to a man I presumed was happily married speak of how he wished to court you. Doubly so, since you were, at the time, Edward's girlfriend," he related, his face scrunching in revulsion at the perceived infidelity.

"Oh," I exhaled in horrified comprehension. "I can see how that would be… weird," I agreed.

"It's alright." Carlisle made a gesture to dismiss my sympathetic disgust. "I understand everything now."

"So, you're okay… with… _us_?" I asked slowly, uncertain of his reaction.

Carlisle didn't hesitate. "Absolutely." His lips turned upward on both sides in a fatherly smile. "I am fine with the idea of him courting you. At least… so long as that's what you want…" he trailed off, not wanting to assume anything about my innermost feelings.

I blinked twice in incomprehension. "Why the sudden change of heart?"

 _He's being so generous about this,_ I noted, still not quite being able to believe it, after how staunchly opposed he'd been to the idea only a few short days prior. _What happened to make him change his mind?_

"I love Edward more than my own flesh," the doctor suddenly prefaced, his face creasing in pain as his lips formed his absent son's name. "After a century of depression, I was _ecstatic_ to finally see him happy with you. It was such a drastic, positive change that I didn't want to hear any objections to your union."

Carlisle's eyes glittered with joy. And his voice carried a nostalgic longing, as though he still wanted his son and I to be happy together. Even though he logically realized that was impossible now.

"And when Edward threatened to take his own life if you were not in it…" Carlisle choked on the painful memory." I didn't want anything to interfere," he explained, looking pointedly at the grass. "Because I feared I might… _lose_ him," he confessed.

His angelic voice broke at the end there. And vicious tremors started wracking his entire body at the awful thought.

I swallowed heavily as I thought back on what Carlisle had said after Edward and I had returned from Volterra. What he had said during the vote about whether to turn me into a vampire or not. I couldn't recall the exact words, but basically Carlisle had only voted "yes" because he had no desire to lose Edward. And he was convinced that as soon as I kicked the bucket, Edward would soon follow. Like a demented version of Jack and Jill.

My immortality—if Edward were a logical person, and not an incubus—was the only way to prevent that.

Immediately, felt a stab of sympathy for Carlisle. Certainly he'd come to appreciate me on my own merits over the year we'd known one another, if his earlier words about being like family to him were to be believed. But I didn't blame him for initially prioritizing the well-being of his son—who'd been a cherished companion of his for an entire century—above mine.

Had I been in the same position, desperately trying to convince _my_ son that life was worth living for decades without end, I probably would have reacted exactly the same way. When said son suddenly seemed happier around a random stranger and claimed she was paramount, I would have done everything in my power to keep them together. Even if I started to see signs that their relationship wasn't the healthiest.

It wasn't the _right_ thing to do. But it was understandable. Carlisle had only been trying to keep his son alive. So I decided to forgive him.

And just as I did, this, the doctor decided to confess his faults. "It wasn't right for me to place Edward's desires above your health and safety." He clapped a guilt-stricken hand over his heart for his previous behavior. "Nor above your feelings."

I rose an eyebrow. "My feelings?"

 _What could Carlisle possibly know about_ _ **my**_ _feelings?_

Carlisle's eyes turned glossy and apologetic. "I should never have made Aro swear not to tell you how he feels." He started pacing in the tall grass, frustrated with himself. "You loved Edward, certainly," he allowed. "But your connection with Aro is already so much stronger."

I was about to open my mouth to protest Carlisle's observation, until I realized, to my own surprise he was absolutely right. My attachment to Edward had been pure infatuation. Sure it had been rather intense. But ultimately it was shallow. Silly. And not suited to weather any real trials.

But my connection with Aro, young as it was, was already maturing into something beyond that surface affection. Our relationship was already deeply caring. Understanding. And willing to work around many daunting obstacles.

 _But how could Carlisle possibly know this?_

I gave Carlisle a quizzical look.

"Even without Jasper around to confirm it, I can tell you care for him," Carlisle affirmed, certain in his observation. "I've seen the way you look at him."

My mouth gaped. _I was already that obvious?_

My hands trembled fitfully at my sides. "Does that… does that bother you?"

"Not at all." Carlisle's lips turned upward, content with this development. "The more I've observed you two together, the more I feel better about it," he added pleasantly for good measure. "Edward was always… a little controlling, now that I think about it," he shared sadly. "Aro's been quite the opposite."

After a short, stunned silence on my part, Carlisle decided to elaborate further. "I was worried when you wanted to try my diet again today that Aro would insist that you not. And perhaps that Aro would even remove you from my household and _force_ you to dine as he does, for your own health," the doctor expressed, gritting his teeth in anger at the idea.

 _Force me to drink human blood? For my own health?_ I shivered at the thought for a second.

But then I too took solace in my confidence that Aro wasn't like that. Based on our interactions so far, he seemed to prefer to use patient logic and persuasion, rather than violence or coercion.

And, to my relief, it appeared that Carlisle was quite aware of this too. "But that fear was more born of my experiences with my son courting you, than my understanding of Aro's character," the doctor explained apologetically. "Despite our… _dietary_ differences, I've always known Aro to be the perfect gentleman. But Edward… well, he took similarly harsh measures to try and prevent you from visiting the wolves…"

Carlisle trailed off. He clenched a fist, evidently disappointed with his son's manipulative actions.

While Carlisle brooded for a minute over his misjudgment, I started to piece everything together. Suddenly I understood a lot more of Carlisle's earlier wariness about Aro and I being close. He'd been unconsciously basing his expectations for us on my relationship with _Edward_ , and feared that Aro would use similarly forcible tactics to keep me "safe" and get his way. Which, given that Aro had a remarkably difference set of morals, would have been disastrous in Carlisle's eyes.

But in reality, Aro was nothing like Edward.

And it wasn't until now—until Aro rather graciously respected my decision to hunt contrary to his own preferences for the second time—that Carlisle finally realized that fact.

That he realized Aro had every intention of being good to me.

That he realized Aro might cajole and persuade, but would never force.

I smiled at the revelation that Carlisle and I were now on the same page about the elder vampire, and listened attentively as he continued.

"But Aro's surprised me with being very willing to compromise and try to come to a joint solution," Carlisle offered as a counterpoint of praise. "He really does care about your opinions… something that I think Edward was never very good at…"

He trailed off again.

"It hurts me to say this…" The doctor cringed. "But, I believe Aro has the potential to be a much better match for you than my son ever was."

Carlisle told me this warmly. Supportively. Enthusiastically.

My eyelids fluttered in astonishment. "Wow. That's… really neat of you."

That sounded stupid. But I didn't have anything better to say.

Carlisle shrugged, as though he really didn't deserve any praise for sharing indisputable facts. Then, with a suddenly intense look in his bright golden eyes, he went on. "So I want you to know, before—well, anything that happens that might necessitate that you leave—"

"Wait," I harshly cut in. "You're going to kick me out if… I can't live on your diet?!" I snapped, affronted by the suggestion.

Carlisle firmly shook his head. " _I_ would never close my doors to you," he clarified. "But because of our treaty with the wolves, and because the others may eventually wish to return to a household comprised of only those who share our ways…"

A sad look of understanding crossed my face. "You think it would be best, in those circumstances, for me to leave."

Carlisle pursed his lips uncomfortably—like the decision was hard on him—and bobbed his head once. "I would," he acknowledged. "And you'll probably wish to take your daughter with you."

"Obviously," I concurred in a growl.

Carlisle didn't even flinch at the sound. "And I expect that Aro will likely wish to go with you, wherever you choose to go," he added—a supposition which startled me.

 _Aro was just going to follow me wherever I went? Didn't he have to go back to Volterra at some point? Salvage whatever was left of the disintegrating Volturi?_

"So, _if_ that is the case. Which I am not saying it will be," Carlisle rushed to assure me. "But _if_ … then I wish to let you know before then that I give Aro my blessing."

"Your blessing?" I prodded. _His blessing to what?_

Carlisle beamed jubilantly. "To pursue you as a potential mate."

I gasped. For like, the fifth time today. And I was certain my disbelief was written all over my face.

Carlisle's grin turned a little hesitant. "As long as he doesn't harm or abandon you, of course," he stipulated firmly. "Though he was quite adamant he would never do that."

 _He'd better not._

"Do you think… " I ducked my head. This was a stupid thing to ask at such a premature stage. But I was dying to know anyway. "Do you think he loves me?"

"Completely," Carlisle answered without a shadow of a doubt. Another astounding occurrence.

 _Aro loves me completely? I guess that's basically what he said earlier, when he was listing all the reasons he liked me. It's just… so different hearing someone else confirm it. Especially someone like Carlisle._

"But the more important question is, do you love him?"

My heart got caught in my throat. And for a moment, all I could do was gape like a fish.

 _Do I?_

After a few seconds, I snapped my mouth closed and muttered nervously, "Not yet… I mean… this is all so new," I gave as my reasoning for not yet completely reciprocating Aro's feelings. Sure I cared about him a lot already, but _love_? Not yet.

"But I think I could. In the future," I told Carlisle honestly.

Carlisle nodded. "Good."

Then, without warning, Carlisle suddenly turned away from me and flicked his gaze up towards the horizon.

When my eyes followed him, I saw a small herd of deer silhouetted in the light of the morning sun. Two were standing atop a tall, rocky precipice several hundred yards away, overlooking our valley. And three were making their way slowly down the treacherous slope that connected it to us, navigating with their eyes firmly trained on the mossy, uneven path beneath them.

Carlisle gestured to the trio of deer approaching us with a broad grin on his face. "Now, let's get you something to drink, shall we?"

...

I stared at the distant quintet of deer Carlisle had indicated intently. They all looked pretty normal, as far as deer went—tawny fur, lanky limbs, beady black eyes and large graceful antlers on the males. One of the deer making its way toward us was only a fawn, still bearing the characteristic white spots. And another was a doe with a noticeable limp in her right hind leg, that suggested recent injury. Though she managed to clamber down the slope after the fawn and another adult with reasonable grace. And I didn't smell any evidence of severed veins, so I assumed she must be healing.

But scrutinizing the small herd didn't do anything good for my throat. If anything, their appearance only made things worse. The flames inside my throat coiled and twisted, discontent with the sight and maybe even disgusted.

And also, to my horror, I didn't instinctively know how to approach feeding off any of them. Just like during our first experiment, I was at a complete loss. Which wasn't good at all, because, aside from two bucks who deigned to linger above, the small group of herbivores had almost finished navigating their way down the slope in front of Carlisle and I.

Panicking, I swiveled abruptly in the grass to face Carlisle. "What do I do first?"

"Close your eyes," he instructed.

Obediently I complied.

"What do you smell, Bella?"

I smelled a lot of things. The sharp smell of pine, the warm scent of earth, the wet aroma of dew, a beehive full of insects and honey, a couple of swallowtail butterflies, a hint of clover and dandelion…

But I was pretty sure Carlisle wasn't looking for a laundry list of everything within a mile radius—all of which I could smell. So instead I just mumbled, "Uh, deer? Five of them?"

My nose wrinkled a bit at the smell as I singled it out from the rest. They were still quite far away, which made it difficult. Especially since the smell blended in quite a bit with the rest of my earthy surroundings. But my nose was more powerful now, meaning that even though no animal skin was broken, the Pepto-Bismol scent was back—this time with a pungent vengeance.

"Correct," Carlisle said with a hint of praise.

I tried to unwrinkle my nose and accept the scent—I would have to get accustomed to it eventually. But this proved nearly impossible because not only were my nasal passages much more sensitive than before, but I also swore that the deer smelled objectively worse than the lion I'd tried before. Which, given the Cullens' general preference for predators, was understandable.

Though it was hardly comforting.

I opened my eyes to briefly glance at the gentle animals, and then back toward the blond doctor. "Uh Carlisle, no offense but..." _These deer stink._

"I know, deer are not the most appetizing," he cut in sympathetically. "But we cannot over-hunt the predators."

A low snarl of disappointment escaped my throat as I realized he was right. Ecological balance was important, even if I was now at the very top of the food chain.

I looked back at the deer again. Three of the five deer had successfully meandered down the slope and settled only a few hundred feet away from where Carlisle and I stood. The trio seemed completely oblivious to our presence as they lazily grazed the grass below. Or at least, unperturbed by it. Which made some degree of sense, since the two of us had hardly moved since our arrival. And thus we were hardly presenting ourselves as a threat.

My nose wrinkled tighter. Their increased proximity only made the smell even worse. I was starting to believe someone had mixed mud into the Pepto. And it was discouraging to notice that my gag-reflex was already preparing itself to be revolted.

 _This was going to be a lot harder than I originally thought_ , I dismayed. _But I'm still going to try,_ I resolved.

"Just follow your instincts, Bella," Carlisle encouraged in a paternal tone. "You'll do fine."

I bit my tongue to hold back my retort. _Easy for him to say._ And decided to follow Carlisle's advice. The doctor knows best, right?

Slowly, I started pacing towards one of the deer—the tallest, a buck. I singled him out because the other two in the clearing were the injured doe and her fawn, and that situation reminded me too much of Bambi to let me be comfortable with hunting either of them.

I still wasn't sure exactly how to wrap my mouth around this problem, but my throat was throbbing so badly now that I was certain that Carlisle was right. That when push came to shove I would figure it out. The instinct to bite was already powerful enough to make my teeth clench and glisten with venom. So figuring out the rest of the logistics couldn't be too tricky, could it?

I tried to keep my movements silent as I approached. Or at least, to keep the rustling of grass at a minimal volume. I knew eventually the deer would see me and probably bolt. But I wanted to get as close as possible before that happened so I didn't have to lunge very far.

I crouched a little to minimize my presence as I moved through the whispering blades of grass. And I watched every twitch of the buck's tawny ears, and every dip of his antler-bearing head attentively, focusing on him as my target in my mind. Focusing on the hunt.

Fully absorbed in my task, I slowly relaxed my nostrils as I slunk closer. With considerable effort, I was able to fully open them. Then I inhaled the muddy Pepto-Bismol scent strongly to steel myself for the chalky flavor awaiting me in the unsuspecting deer's veins.

It was repulsive, almost to a dizzying extent.

But my resolve to be a "vegetarian" was too strong to let that hold me back.

And I was so close now. Only about ten feet away from the buck.

At this proximity I could catch a faint coppery undertone in the deer's scent. It wasn't much, but I was so thirsty that my mouth watered like crazy as I registered the tasty metallic smell—the fluid pooling on my tongue a bit thicker and more viscous than I was used to. My razor-sharp teeth also clicked together in anticipation. And my knees bent in preparation to spring…

And everything seemed to be going fine, until…

The wind abruptly shifted directions.

A heavenly aroma wafted in the breeze. A stark contrast to the ninety-percent disgusting smell in front of me.

This new smell was something else entirely. Rather than reminding me of cold medicine mixed with mud—the general odor of the buck—this new scent was something warm. Something salty. Something metallic.

Something… _delicious._

My next move was automatic. I couldn't have stopped it if I wanted to. As if pulled by an invisible puppet-string, I rose from my hunched stance by the deer and immediately darted back the way Carlisle and I had come.

Towards the origin of that intoxicating smell.

With my heart pounding in excitement and my teeth twisted with glee, I leapt over the tall mound of earth separating this wide valley from the rest of the forest in a single, impressive bound. And then I took a sharp turn to the right, towards a series of towering, slate grey cliffs.

Carlisle watched me take off, confused for an eighth of a second before he took a deep breath. Then he panicked immediately.

"Bella!" Carlisle called after me. Though his voice was dim over the roar of blood and venom in my ears. "Bella wait!"

But I was too focused on the task at hand to worry.

 _What's his problem?_ I wondered absently as I bolted in a zig-zag pattern through the trees. _He told me to follow my instincts. And my instincts are telling me that there's something_ _ **much**_ _tastier just up ahead. Sure it's probably a predator… but can't Carlisle allow me this one indulgence?_ I rationalized hungrily as I leapt over a rotting log, half-buried in moss, half-buried in fungus.

"Bella! Come back!"

Annoyed with his sudden, arbitrary restrictions, I tuned him out, honing my focus on the hunt, on the scent, and kept going. But when I reached the foot of the cliffs, to my surprise, I didn't stop. Without even thinking about it, I launched myself straight up into the air and smacked right into the cliff-side.

For a split second I was sure that I'd made a terrible mistake. That I would hit my head violently against the rock, and in my typical clumsy matter, plummet to the ground. But instead of injuring myself when I made contact with the wall of stone, I felt my hands carving through the rock like it was mere sand, crushing pieces of the cliff into dust to make handholds and footholds.

I didn't even have time to be impressed with my new strength or ingenuity. Instead, I immediately set about scaling the wall of rock as quickly as possible, carving new holds as I went.

The heavenly smell was closer now, and it was making my throat burn something fierce. I could hardly stand it—the anticipation was too much. I was so close. So close.

Even closer now…

In my peripheral vision I saw that black shape again. It whipped across the forest landscape and paused just at the base of the cliff to stare up at me in awe. In the back of my mind, I knew it was Aro. And if I'd bothered to turn and look at him directly, I was certain that at this distance his form and features would be perfectly clear.

But I wasn't interested in him at the moment.

I had to get to that smell.

I was only fifty feet away now…

Realizing that I wasn't going to stop, Carlisle clambered up the mound of earth after me and halted next to Aro on the ground at the base of the cliff. He cupped his hands around his mouth to amplify the sound of his voice.

"Bella! STOP!" Carlisle shrieked.

His voice was seriously grating on my nerves. _What was he yelling about?_ _That smell is so close… Then my throat will finally stop burning. Isn't that the point of all this?_ I thought as I raced upwards, furiously crushing rock to powder between my fingers as I raced up the cliff wall. _Whatever this animal is… it smells a hundred times better than deer…_

Carlisle's face grew wan and desperate. "Aro we have to restrain her!"

Aro shook his head calmly. "She is in the middle of a hunt, Carlisle," he observed, pointing to some unspecified space above my current position. A space that Carlisle was viewing with intense anxiety. "She will tear both of our arms off if we try."

I felt a growl bubbling in my throat as I thought of anyone trying to hold me back now. Aro was right. I wasn't usually a violent person but this was way too important. My throat was practically blistering now. And I was so close. So very close…

Just twenty more feet…

If anyone dared get in my way now…. Well, I was pretty sure they were going to regret it.

"Bella! NO!" Carlisle screamed. His voice was a heart-wrenching mixture of pain, pity and grief. And yet… it was still so far away. So… _unimportant._

"Aro! _Please_!" Carlisle pleaded with his dark-haired friend. He pointed to that space just above me again, his eyes turning white with trapped, venomy tears. "Do something!"

Aro rolled his eyes before sighing in reluctant acquiescence. Then in a flash, he was level with me on the wall, having used his diamond-hard skin to dig hand and foot holds of his own.

As he climbed up the cliff in sync with me, he reached out with one arm tentatively to block my path… "Dearest, dearest pleas—"

I snarled at him. Loud and fierce enough to make all of his hairs stand on end.

 _You're in the way._

Knowing that I might tear the incriminating arm off and kick him off this wall if he didn't, Aro immediately backed off. "Normally, I would not interfere," he explained as I resumed tearing up the cliff. "But you are going to regret this, my dear," he tried to impress upon me as he followed me up, keeping level with me the whole way. "And it absolutely _kills_ me to see you in pain…"

I ignored him and kept going. Whatever nonsense he was rambling about really wasn't paramount right now. But, unfortunately he was persistent. He followed me the rest of the way up the grey cliffs, still prattling on nonsensically about devastation and guilt. And when we reached the summit—a mere few feet away from the origin of the smell—Aro briefly stood in front of me atop the rocky ledge, blocking my path.

 _What are you doing? It's literally_ _ **right**_ _there! Get out of my way!_

I snarled at him louder.

Wisely, he immediately stepped to the side.

But what he revealed when he floated out of my line of sight was not what I'd been expecting. All this time, I was assuming that I was following Carlisle's instructions—that I was following my instincts and those instincts would lead me to find an acceptable meal of animal blood. But the creature I saw standing with their back to me, peering across the endless vista of mountains and trees, was not an animal at all.

This creature stood on two legs. Looked around at the breathtaking scenery around us through a pair of binoculars. And was clad in beige shorts and a red T-shirt.

In other words, it was a human.

For a fraction of a second I felt a stab of emotional pain. _I… I'm hunting a human?_ I thought with both incredulity and horror.

But the pain immediately vanished when I noticed something else about this human. The exact something that had probably lured me here in the first place.

He was obviously a climber, judging by the mass of mountaineering equipment littered at his feet and his sporty attire. Though, evidently not the most careful of climbers because he'd scraped both of his knees pretty badly. And one of them was dripping red with thick droplets of fresh blood.

My mouth watered like a faucet at the smell. It was completely overpowering now. At this distance, nothing else existed. Not Aro, the vampire standing still, but anxious off to my side. Nor the gorgeous summer landscape stretching around me in all three-hundred and sixty degrees. Nor the flash of pale yellow that appeared in the corner of my eye.

None of it was real.

Or at least, none of it mattered.

Until it interfered.

Carlisle, who'd appeared at the summit just seconds ago, tried to jump. I would guess later that he was planning to snatch the unwitting hiker off the cliff, and run him to safety. It would make the most sense, knowing Carlisle's character and passion for saving human lives.

But in that moment all I saw in my red-hazed vision, was a competitor. Another predator trying to steal my prey.

So I lunged just milliseconds after Carlisle did. I threw a leg out as I soared through the air. My foot viciously connected with Carlisle's stomach. And I kicked him off the edge of the cliff while we were both still in mid-air.

 _Mine!_ I thought with triumphant possessiveness as I watched Carlisle sail downward off the cliff, before disappearing into the trees. I wasn't worried about him though—he wouldn't be able to make it back up here in time to stop me. And that was all that mattered.

The human now had taken notice of some commotion happening around him. But before he could process what was going on, or even properly scream, I'd caught him roughly by the shoulders.

His skin was so hot underneath my chilly fingers. Not as hot as Nessa's but still startlingly warm. And at this proximity, the aroma wafting from his veins completely engulfed me. It was like I was _bathed_ in it.

Though, maybe it was more like a sauna. My throat was certainly scorching like one.

I think Aro might have called out to me—gave one last desperate plea for me to stop. But I couldn't be sure. His voice was so quiet I couldn't really make it out over the sound of my own excitement. And the flames in my esophagus were approximating the temperature of the sun now, so paying attention to Aro would have to wait.

Without another second's delay, I did as instinct compelled me to. My hands gripped the shoulders of the human tight enough to bruise. My mouth opened wide, dripping thick strands of viscous venom onto the human's exposed skin. And in one smooth motion, I bit down into his neck.

The poor, unsuspecting hiker screamed, a high, bloodcurdling scream as my razor-sharp teeth carved through his skin like butter. But I hardly heard his cries over the sound of me sucking out his blood as fast as I could, and the exquisite taste splashing onto my ten-times more sensitive tongue.

 _Aw, this is heaven,_ I decided as I drank away. _I thought it was heaven to drink blood before—when I was still mostly human. But no… no this is so much better. Infinitely better._

I think the hiker tried kicking me—a futile, last ditch effort to dislodge me from his jugular vein. But his frantic kicks felt more like soft caresses against my hardened legs.

And I wasn't paying much attention to him at all, really. Everything that happened after that bite that wasn't the act of me guzzling his succulent blood that was lost in a haze of pure bliss.

At least… until my frantic slurping yielded no more ambrosia.

And then, the frenzy was suddenly over.

Slowly, I extricated my teeth from the hot flesh they'd buried themselves in, and tipped my head backwards. As I leaned away, my heart did something funny—fluttering a bit irregularly—a sensation that surprisingly felt quite good. And then I felt warm liquid rushing from my stomach through my system, surging through my half-venom-chilled veins, until it spread through my entire body. At which point, the fluid soaked into the cells surrounding my capillaries.

This confused me a little bit, because I was fairly certain that my digestive system and my circulatory system were supposed to be separate things—not intertwined as they currently seemed to be. But the blood soaking into my tissues supplied me with a heady surge of energy. A surge that caused the fire in my throat to completely abate. And a surge that felt so good it made me moan with immeasurable pleasure.

So I wasn't exactly complaining.

But the most surprising change I felt did not occur in my cells or my esophagus. No, the weirdest change was that my hands felt alien and cold all of sudden. And for some strange reason they were clutching something unfamiliar. Something squishy. Something limp.

After the unfamiliar high caused by blood soaking into my cells dispersed, slowly, fearing what I might find, I looked down.

Laying, drooped like a ragdoll in my white hands was the hiker. Though he looked different now. His skin was much paler than I remembered—almost translucent. His scraped knee was also no longer bleeding. And a large, double-crescent shaped gash marred his neck, from which a rusty, dark stain trailed.

But most importantly, he wasn't breathing.

I was holding a lifeless body.

The lifeless body that belonged to the human being whom I'd just drained.

Disgusted and terrified, I immediately dropped the corpse at my feet. A disturbing, floppy "thud" followed the action.

And then, unable to bear the weight of this horror, I dropped to my knees on the stone summit. And screamed.

Immediately I heard rushing wind, followed by the familiar shape of Aro. "Bella!" He called as he darted over to where I stood. "Bella is everything…?"

Suddenly Aro stopped short. He appraised the scene—me, hunched over my kill, wailing hysterically and clutching my legs like a wounded child. And he stood perfectly still, taking it in for a few seconds with a sorrowful expression. Then he resumed his approach.

I felt Aro's hand on my shoulder. It was meant to be a comfort. But in all practicality it was useless. The deed was already done. My fate was already sealed.

 _I'm a murderer now. A killer. A monster. Why did I even want to survive, before?_ I wondered bleakly. _I should have died giving birth to Nessa. I shouldn't be alive. I should be dead._

"Carlisle!" Aro called down into the trees where he was last seen after I kicked him. "She's finished."

My breath hitched in my throat as I heard Aro say this so calmly. I could just imagine what he really meant. _She's done murdering. It's okay to come back now, Carlisle. The human is dead. It's all over. You don't have to watch._

I wanted to vomit. The fact that the worst of the violence was over with didn't make it any better.

In a fit of desperation I grabbed some nearby brambles and leaves—as many as were within reach—and frantically tried to cover the body. I didn't want Carlisle to see it. I knew that he was well aware of what had happened—he _had_ to be—but I knew the sight would still devastate him.

When I finally rose to my feet, ambling barefoot across the uneven stone ground to reach for another stack of twigs, Aro took hold of me by the waist. And gently pulled me away.

"No!" I cried, bucking in his grip and still scrambling to bury the corpse with leaves.

I heard a few audible cracks emanate from Aro's shins as I writhed to get away from him. A fact that both shocked and terrified me— _I was strong enough to hurt him now?_ But despite my repeated protests and my injurious newborn strength, Aro hardly even flinched as my flailing limbs dealt each crushing blow, and his grip remained secure.

"Bella, come with me," Aro instructed calmly, but firmly through gritted teeth. "Carlisle will take care of it."

Aro's dismissive words made me abruptly stop thrashing. _It._ That same dehumanizing word. Aro had just called my first kill an "it".

I stilled and swallowed uncomfortably in Aro's arms.

"Please, don't let him see…" I begged Aro, covering my eyes with my hands.

"Carlisle's seen much worse, my dear," Aro offered as a strange form of comfort.

And oddly enough, it _was_ comforting to know that this wouldn't be the first time the pacifistic doctor was exposed to a bloodless human corpse. Before the battle with the newborn army, Jasper had shared his lofty number of "mistakes" with me. And I was fairly certain that Carlisle had probably been involved in the clean-up in those instances. So seeing a bloodless body wouldn't be exactly _new_.

Though, the thought of Carlisle seeing the one _I_ had created still made my stomach churn.

Realizing that I wasn't going to try to escape any more, Aro shifted his hold on me into one that was significantly more comfortable. With me cradled bridal-style in his arms, Aro paced slowly towards the edge of the grey cliff. Though just as we reached the precipice, Carlisle clambered up the other side and stopped to briefly analyze his surroundings.

I felt an acute stab of guilt as his warm golden eyes found the body, half-buried in leaves and sticks. The horror on Carlisle's face was almost tangible.

But my guilt was quickly replaced with puzzlement as Carlisle instantly wiped the horrified look off of his face with a stoic expression and quickly set about piling more sticks on top of the body. His movements were emotionless, but methodical, purposeful—it was clear to me that the doctor had a reason behind his actions. A goal that was, apparently much more important than grieving over the tragic loss of human life.

"What is…" I started to ask Aro before I realized it was rude not to ask Carlisle directly when he was standing right there. "What are you doing?" I asked the doctor as he completely buried the body in foliage, drizzled some mysterious, foul-smelling liquid over the pile, and fished something shiny out of his pocket.

Carlisle held the shiny object aloft. I gasped audibly as I realized it was a lighter.

"I have to take care of this before the wolves notice," he informed me in a lifeless voice before flicking the lighter open and tossing it into the pile.

 _This? Even Carlisle was doing it now?_ I thought, devastated by that knowledge as I watched the gasoline soaked pile of leaves roar up in flames. _Did all vampires dehumanize their kills like this? Was it the only way to stay sane?_ I worried as I stared into the dancing orange flames.

"Bella, we really should go," Aro encouraged, slipping several slender fingers beneath my chin and turning my head away from the sizzling evidence of my crime. This time I let him move me away from the body without protest. I didn't want to look anymore.

"O-okay," I shakily agreed.

Though the trembling that overtook me shortly afterwards was anything but convincing. And the howl that escaped my lips as I discovered that, while I could cry _vocally,_ my new eyes were incapable of producing tears was similarly unnerving to Aro.

"Shh, shh," Aro placated, rubbing one of my shoulders gently, while he prepared to jump off the cliff. "Everything will be alright," he promised before he leaped with me into the green mass below. "Everything will be alright."

…

We walked back to the house like a funeral procession. Slow. Sad. Defeated. This experiment had been a colossal failure.

After we'd landed at the base of the cliff I had insisted on standing on my own two feet, but Aro let me cling to him the whole time—a fact for which I was immensely grateful. And a fact that Carlisle paid almost no mind to.

 _I guess he really meant it when he said he was okay with us being together,_ I concluded. Though, that hardly felt like it mattered right now. I felt utterly unworthy of anyone's love right now.

Logically, of course I knew that Aro had killed _thousands_ of humans, and that he likely only wore a morose expression now because my sadness was contagious. Not because he believed I'd done something horribly wrong.

But no matter what I did, as we trudged back to the house, I couldn't expunge the rotten feeling in my gut. Nor could I banish the gruesome vision from my mind—the vision that was so much worse than I had previously imagined. The vision of the poor hiker's limp, drained body going up in flames.

As I clutched Aro's arm in a death-grip, I tried to cry again. But it was no use. Tears just wouldn't flow. Despite still being part human, and having cried only a few hours prior, all I could manage was an accumulation of venom inside my eyes that made them pulse with pain, and made my surroundings milky and difficult to see. The kind of tears that made my vampire eyes glossy, but, to my complete frustration, wouldn't run.

Certainly the vocal part of weeping was still available to me. But I wasn't in the mood to wail right now. Instead, I craved the silent tears kind of mourning.

And I boiled with anger that it had been so abruptly stolen from me.

 _I can't even properly sob over the fact that I_ _ **killed**_ _someone,_ I lamented. _I really am a monster…_

Just as I started to spiral into despair, however, my head snapped up in response to a new scent I caught on the breeze. I knew, based on the landmarks we'd passed in the last half-hour or so that we were close to the house. But something was wrong. The smell was sunny—like a vampire's scent. But it wasn't any of the scents I recognized from before. This one was sickly sweet, like corn syrup and bad cologne.

 _There's an intruder at the house._

I sniffed the air again, trying to get a closer lock on it. _No… two intruders,_ I realized with a jolt as I took in a second, unfamiliar sunshine smell. Though this second one smelled brighter, slightly singed, and reminded me of Emmett's scent for some unknowable reason.

Carlisle, who'd been walking beside us, keeping the same, languid pace, abruptly halted in the grass. Then he too sniffed the air, having also caught the unfamiliar scents. And I watched with bated breath as Carlisle's golden eyes widened in comprehending fear.

 _Wait, Carlisle knows who these two are?_ I wasn't exactly comforted by that fact, though, judging by the frightened look on the doctor's face. And the similarly disturbed look on Aro's as he mirrored the blond's actions.

 _Whoever the two of them are smelling… they aren't good news._

At length, Carlisle finally dropped his nose and explained. "Edward has returned. And he's brought Rosalie with him."

Instantly, I panicked. _Wait… Edward's back already? I thought he wasn't planning on returning!_


	18. Chapter 18: Confrontation

**AN: Sorry this took longer than expected. I wanted to make sure I knew where the story was going before I published this chapter.**

* * *

 _"The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting."_

 _―_ Sun Tzu, The Art of War

…

CHAPTER 18: CONFRONTATION

My heart faltered as the news of Edward's return reached my ears. At first, it was almost impossible to believe. _After such a dramatic and final exit, Edward was back? Just like that?_

But Carlisle and Aro were giving me no indication that they were lying about the identity of the two vampires near the Cullen home. And as the reality of what was happening began to sink in, I tried to remember what Edward had said to me before he leapt out of the window. Perhaps there was something that I had missed. Something Edward had said that would make his sudden reappearance make more sense.

I was surprised, however, as I reviewed the memory in my head by how murky it was. Despite, having happened less than two weeks ago, the heart-wrenching episode of Edward's second abandonment was blurry, muddled and oddly sepia-toned. It was like I was watching a poorly recorded old film on a scratched disc—a fact that jarred me. Surely my memory had never been perfect… but why did it seem so bad all of a sudden?

I ran a few more recent memories through my mind experimentally, to see if time was the main factor. But even memories as recent as yesterday's conversation about baby names were similarly hazed. Only those which occurred after Nessa's birth avoided this.

To my dismay, I could replay the scene of the hiker's grisly death with near perfect clarity. Every ghastly sight, every wonderful sensation—all of that was crystallized in my mind in the new extreme high-definition that my heightened senses provided. Clear. Immaculate. Untarnishable.

It was uncanny, really. I could go back and count every leaf on the trees I passed while Carlisle was leading me to the clearing with the deer. I could relive the smell of wet dew drops spraying into the air as the doctor came to a halt. I could re-experience the sound of Aro's pained voice, and re-feel the sensation of rock dissolving into dust beneath my fingers as I scaled the cliffside. I could even revisit the taste—that exquisite taste—of fresh human blood pouring liberally from severed veins onto my eager tongue.

It was like I'd suddenly developed photographic memory, only not with just what I saw, but with everything I experienced.

And it was then that I realized, perhaps my memory had not gotten any worse, but rather Carlisle's venom had so drastically _enhanced_ my capacity to remember that all of my old, human memories seemed fuzzy and colorless by comparison.

I took another quick trip down memory lane, stretching back as far as I possibly could to corroborate this theory. And as I did, I got the distinct impression that the clarity of my memories had less to do with time than it did with my physiology. The memories just before my pregnancy began—when Jame's venom started to spread—were nearly completely shrouded from my sight, despite only having transpired a month prior. Even the wedding—as much of a spectacle as it had been—was reduced to only a few indistinct images. It seemed the less venom I'd possessed in my system at the time of the memory, the harder it got to recall specific details. And conversely, the more I had, the easier it was.

But that knowledge did little to soothe me. Still confused and honestly a little frightened by my husband's sudden return, I feverishly waded through those foggy human memories to see if I could find a reason, any reason at all, why he might come back.

After a couple of seconds of digging—my new mind worked _very_ quickly—I finally managed to dredge up the relevant words.

 _Edward, please at least take your phone with you_ … I recalled the doctor asking of Edward. _So I can keep you updated on any developments? If Bella does survive, thanks to Aro's assistance, certainly you will want to return?_

The doctor had sounded so optimistic at the time. And although the accompanying imagery was tinted and foggy, I could clearly recall how much hope Carlisle's words had brought me. How happy I'd been to receive his verbal support.

But then, I remembered Edward taking the phone his father was offering and crushing it to powder in his hands. Then he announced, with full sincerity, _She won't._

My skin burned just thinking about it. Edward's second abandonment had wounded me in a way nothing else could. Except maybe my recent crime on the cliffs. Though as I painstakingly reviewed the episode, I realized that after that, there wasn't anything Edward had said to suggest he would return. He'd practically given me a eulogy as he perched on the window sil, for goodness sake!

And then he'd disappeared. Never to be seen again.

At least, that was what I'd been expecting.

So his abrupt return surprised me just as much as it did the two men next to me.

For a moment, Aro and Carlisle stood ramrod still, stiff with discomfort and something akin to fear. Then, Carlisle gradually relaxed and turned to face the two of us.

"I'll go see what he wants," Carlisle grumbled, a shocking helping of annoyance coloring his tone.

I was about to ask why he sounded so upset, but Carlisle didn't pause long enough for the words to leave my bloodstained lips. Without another word, he flitted ahead, switching from a sorrowful stroll to an all-out sprint. Leaving Aro and I to watch as he dashed towards the house, towards Edward, at top speed.

Aro and I exchanged brief, concerned glances. It was obvious that we both were uncertain whether Carlisle's course of action was the wisest one, given how emotionally volatile Edward had been before he left. But, a few seconds after Carlisle disappeared into the trees, we picked up our pace too.

We moved through the forest at a much slower jog to allow Carlisle time to reach Edward first. We both silently agreed that it would be best for the doctor to ascertain why on earth Edward was back before we revealed ourselves.

If Edward was in a bad mood, seeing us—the two red-eyed vampires—might lead to disaster. He certainly had responded quite negatively to the idea of Aro being in my presence before. So it was best to wait until we had a better grasp on the situation, if we wanted to avoid unnecessary injury.

While we moved at our new, slightly quicker speed, I couldn't stay clinging to Aro's side. But the absence of his direct touch wasn't so bad. The milky tears clouding my eyes had already cleared. I was much too worried with how my former love would react to keep grieving over my new status as a killer.

 _Would Edward be furious that his dire predictions about my death were wrong? That I continued to exist—as a partial vampire, no less?_ I feared, especially because of how vehemently Edward had opposed the idea of me becoming a vampire before. I doubted he would be very pleased to see me even only halfway immortal. Any vampiric portion was too much for an incubus.

 _Then… how will he react to my daughter?_ came my next worried thought. She was half-and-half too. And more likely to remain that way indefinitely. _Would he try to hurt her?_

My teeth snapped together viciously at the thought. _He'll get dismembered if he tries,_ the furious mother-bear part of me asserted.

But just as I was starting to envision exactly how I would rip Edward apart if he were to so much as lay a wrong finger on my daughter, another frightening thought struck me. One that, to anyone else might not have seemed scary at all, but to me was perhaps the most unnerving possibility of them all.

 _But what if Edward doesn't react badly? Might he…._ I shuddered just contemplating it _…suddenly decide he wanted to be Nessa's father? Might he try to re-ensnare me in his tangled web of false affection?_

I definitely wouldn't yield to him again—there was no way I could ever rekindle my romantic feelings for him after what he'd done—but that was beside the point. The mere idea that Edward could think it was acceptable to simply slide back into a paternal, and husbandly role, after thoroughly rejecting both, made my skin crawl.

Edward had no right to be a part of our family.

Not after abandoning us in our time of greatest need.

As I fretted over the many—mostly disturbing—possibilities, Carlisle made it all the way to the front yard of his home. He burst out of the trees into the grassy clearing rather dramatically. We heard a loud rustling of leaves. And there was a shower of eight-color rainbow light as his prismatic skin was suddenly fully exposed to the summer sun's bright rays.

Then almost instantly, Carlisle came to a sharp halt in the warm grass. He stood approximately a hundred feet away from his home's driveway. And just inches before the grass gave way to gravel, stood two pale figures, one russet-haired, and the other a golden blonde. They both regarded Carlisle with cold, calculating expressions.

Aro and I stopped shortly after Carlisle did, though we stopped in the shade of the last row of trees. We stayed back, concealed in the aspens because it was a strategic move. From our vantage point, we could see the whole scene in full detail, without having been noticed yet by the pair of intruders. And, according to Aro, without yet being in the range of Edward's mind-reading powers.

The scene really was something to behold. Three vampires standing radiant in the full light of day was almost too much for my recently enhanced eyesight to handle.

But my breath hitched uncomfortably when I saw Edward for the first time since his departure. Like all other vampires I'd seen today, my new eyes made him appear even more beautiful than he'd been to me in human form. Which was an impressive feat, given how dazzling he'd already appeared to me before.

Though his crystalline beauty was currently soured by a dark, menacing expression. And a fierce pair of obsidian eyes that were doing their best to bore a hole through the doctor.

"Where did you bury her?" Edward snapped as soon as he saw Carlisle settle into the clearing.

Carlisle took a hesitant step back at his son's sharp tone. But rather than looking afraid, his face was the picture of confusion. _Bury her?_ His eyes seemed to say. _Bury who?_

Edward hissed at whatever he heard in the doctor's bewildered thoughts. "You can't lie to me! Your tricks won't work!" He jabbed an accusatory finger at his surrogate father. "I know she's dead. That you hid her body somewhere!"

Carlisle looked briefly offended, then simply frowned before walking closer to his son. He stopped in the grass about thirty feet away, then gestured behind him, towards the area where Aro and I lurked, obscured in the shadows of the summer leaves.

"Bella is very much alive," Carlisle explained with a sigh, exasperated with Edward's constant doubting of my survival. "She's on her way back from hunting right now."

Edward's eyebrows lifted incredulously. His lips curled in disgust. " _Hunting?_ "

"Yes, Edward," Carlisle ground out. " _Hunting_."

It was obvious, by his emphasis, that Carlisle wasn't speaking about the kind of hunting Charlie sometimes did. But the vampire kind.

"B-but, how?" Edward sputtered, unwilling to believe it, though evidently seeing some pretty convincing evidence in the elder vampire's head. I watched his brow furrow deeper in concentration and his black eyes flicker back and forth, as though he was still processing what the doctor's thoughts were telling him. "That's… that's _impossible!_ "

Carlisle frowned, disappointed with his son's antics, and firmly crossed his arms. "No, because as it turned out _Aro_ had some really helpful information," he explained a little tersely. "Bella's health was practically completely restored just a day or two after you left."

Edward hissed again. "That's…" He grimaced at something Carlisle must have shown him. "That's _disgusting._ Rose told me about that, but I…. " He made an exaggerated gagging noise and didn't finish.

My eyebrows raised on my forehead as I started to understand what Edward was getting at. Based on the tone of his voice, and the way Rosalie, who stood dutifully and silently beside her brother throughout this whole exchange, also curled her lower lip in distaste, I could guess what he'd seen. It was probably an image of me drinking O positive from a straw.

An image of me not only doing something the Cullens generally saw as despicable. But also an image of me going something vampiric. Something that Edward, as an incubus, was prone to think was particularly appalling.

My stomach did an uneasy flip-flop at the realization that drinking human blood from a cup wasn't even the worst thing I'd ever done. Edward would be not only sickened, but _livid_ once he learned what had transpired at the top of the grey cliffs today.

It was hard enough to not be livid with myself. _Murder,_ hadn't been the plan.

Though, listening to the current conversation was certainly a useful distraction.

"The delivery had some… _complications_ ," Carlisle admitted uneasily to the snappish pair. "But both Bella and her child made it out fine."

" _Both_?" Rosalie suddenly asked, sounding oddly desperate. "Where's the baby?" she demanded, sauntering towards Carlisle with an almost murderous look in her butterscotch eyes.

Apparently, the survival of my infant was all that mattered to her.

I couldn't help but release a low growl of protectiveness as I witnessed Rosalie's movements. _Nessa is_ _ **my**_ _daughter! Leave her alone!_

As Rosalie stomped across the lawn, moving with threatening purpose, I nearly broke through the trees to try and stop her. All leftover vestiges of guilt from the hunt disappeared as I witnessed her march imperiously toward her goal. In that moment, my veins were suffused with pure rage. I wanted so badly to tear across the grassy lawn and smack that pretentious blonde right in the jaw for daring to presume that she had any right to be near my baby.

But thankfully, Aro noticed my intentions in time. And he restrained me before I could bolt into the sunlight—a task that was surprisingly easy. All it took was a simple squeeze of my arm and a slow, but firm shake of his head.

 _He's right,_ I realized, taking a deep breath to cool my anger. _It's probably not in our best interests to reveal our positions, just yet. Not when both Rosalie and Edward are acting so volatile._

Carlisle took a few wary steps back as Rosalie approached him. He raised on hand in a halting gesture, and pointed the other towards the house. "She's inside," he explained nervously. "Esme's watching over her."

Rosalie immediately changed her course upon hearing Carlisle's remarks. She made a sharp, ninety-degree turn, stepped onto the driveway leading up to the house, and began storming towards the front steps of the Cullen home. An action which made the kindly doctor panic.

I too tensed as I watched Rosalie make a beeline for the front door. _No! She can't see my daughter before I've even been allowed to see her!_

"Wait!" Carlisle called after her.

With a huff, Rosalie obediently paused on the driveway, just before the stairs. Her hands were placed on her hips in irritation. Her suede-booted foot tapped a quick rhythm on the hard, rocky ground. And her glittering, angelic face was warped with impatient fury.

"You need to be careful, Rosalie," Carlisle cautioned. He spoke with both hands raised to suggest she needed to slow down. "The baby… she smells half-human." He flickered a fourth-of a second glance back towards where Aro and I were hidden away in the trees before focusing his sights back on Rosalie. "I don't think Bella would let you live if you tried to bite her baby."

I snarled ferociously in agreement. Though apparently the sound was lost in the summer breeze, because no one other than Aro—who instinctively stiffened at my side—reacted to it.

" _She_?" Edward snorted, like he disagreed with the designation. "So the little _fiend_ is female?"

My heart lurched as I heard my former love call my baby a fiend. And Carlisle's face immediately soured at the tone of his son's voice. "Edward," he began flatly. "She's an _infant_ , not a demon."

Edward rolled his eyes derisively and harrumphed, unaccepting of his father's judgment on this matter. And Rosalie's patience seemed to have reached the end of the rope.

"Let me inside," Rosalie commanded, already ascending the stairs as she spoke, as if Carlisle had already given the go-ahead. "I want to hold my baby."

 ** _My_** _baby?_ I repeated inwardly, dumbfounded by the blonde's selfishness. _After all the strife and damage she had caused, not to mention repeatedly abandoning me when I most needed her support, Rosalie had the audacity to call my child_ _ **her**_ _baby?_

Deciding that his attempts to hold me back at this point would probably cost him a limb, Aro promptly let go of my arm. Then he simply watched with a satisfied smirk as I tore out of the shade as fast as I could.

Rosalie pivoted on her feet instantly as the sound of rustling blades of grass and pounding bare feet reached her ears. But the sight that greeted her eyes—that of a furious, hospital-gown clad woman, whose hair was tangled from the wind, and whose mouth, neck and collar were still smeared red with blood, barreling towards her at top speed—was not what Rosalie had been expecting to see.

Rosalie yelped at the horrifying sight and scrambled back from the stairs, and into the lawn as quickly as she could. But even her vampiric speed was no match for mine. With both my own blood and the blood provided by my recent meal both supercharging my system, I flew to where Rosalie was in seconds. Tackled her in a fit of rage. And pinned her to the ground with my powerful, new hands.

"SHE'S NOT YOUR BABY!" I screamed at the woman trapped beneath me. I gnashed my teeth, droplets of venom mixed with blood falling from my lips, before I continued. "She's MINE!"

Rosalie stared up at my crazed, crimson eyes in pure horror. Her long, wavy golden locks were now tangled in the grass. And I was pretty sure, given how wet it was, that she was getting grass stains on her designer jeans. But as vain as Rosalie could be, those were the least of her concerns right now. The blood-stained predator snapping venomous teeth in her face was a much more pressing problem.

"B-bella?" Rosalie cried in frightful astonishment. "Is that… really you?"

I froze upon hearing Rosalie's fearful cries. _Wait. It wasn't obvious? Did I really look so scary she didn't recognize me?_

My hands started feeling cold and alien again. Like they belonged to someone else. Someone _evil._

 _Am I… a monster?_

Suddenly, all of my violent anger vanished and all I was left with was crippling self-doubt. Jolted by Rosalie's words, I let go of her wrists immediately. Then summarily regained my footing on the lawn next to her.

 _Jasper was right about the erratic, yet powerful emotions I would feel as a newborn too,_ I decided as I staggered back from Rosalie, then halted suddenly in the grass. _Everything I feel is so intense, and yet so fleeting…_ I observed sadly, looking down at my pale feet.

Rosalie looked up from her position on the ground at my suddenly petrified form, perplexed by my rapid change of demeanor. But then her expression swiftly turned perturbed. And with a defiant snort she rose to her feet in a fluid leap, and then immediately tried to place ample distance between herself and me.

I hadn't seen a mirror since before my transformation, and definitely nothing reflective since the hunt, so in that moment, I wasn't aware of exactly how terrifying I looked. I didn't know how wild my wind-tossed hair appeared. Nor that the skin and clothes near my mouth were soaked with blood from my recent meal. So Rosalie's behavior perplexed me.

The way she stepped warily back from me, spooked, like she'd just seen a ghost, didn't make any sense at all. Nor the way she cowered behind Edward once she backed up far enough, her knees shaking violently and teeth chattering in complete terror.

"Stay back!" Rosalie cried when I cautiously took a single step towards her.

I froze in place immediately.

"I won't go near your daughter! I promise!" she called out in a quavering voice that _almost_ sounded sincere, with how frightened it was. "Just don't… don't come any closer…"

Confused and a little bit hurt, actually, I stayed still as requested. I switched my gaze from her to the vampire standing impassively in front of her. His eyes moved too, almost in sync with mine. Though when our gazes finally locked, something completely unexpected happened.

Instead of looking at me in shock, horror, relief, or love—the four feelings I'd been expecting—Edward's entire face twisted into a foul expression. And he snorted with revulsion.

Then Edward's fathomless black eyes flicked over to Aro, who had just stepped into the range of his abilities. And as the black-clad man filled Edward's vision, Edward fumed with hatred.

"You've ruined her, Aro!"

"On the contrary, I believe we have only unlocked her latent improvements," Aro countered with a delicious smirk as he made his way slowly across the lawn.

I stared, transfixed at Aro's face and hands as they adopted the characteristic sparkle of our kind. He was so beautiful, even with so little of himself showing, I couldn't help but wonder how magnificent he would be when fully exposed to the suns refracting rays.

My cheeks burned—apparently I could still blush—just thinking about it. Picturing all of Aro's naked skin, all of his lean, marble muscles bared in all their refractive glory for my new eyes to enjoy…. It was just too much.

"This is who she was always destined to be, Edward," Aro added gesturing to me and drawing me out of my lustful fantasies.

"Arrrrgh!" Edward growled, irate with how things had turned out. "She was so much better when she was human!" he insisted, shaking violently all of a sudden, as though the sight of me now was so repulsive it made his entire body rebel. "Her new scent… " He paused, lightly sniffing the air and frowning deeply as he searched for the right words to describe it. "I _hate_ it."

I shivered at his words.

 _So he only liked it when I smelled… edible? Gross._

Aro mirrored my abhorrence. "She no longer sings to you, yet you find that unbearable?" he snarled in a tone that suggested he found this fact morbidly ironic.

I agreed, it _was_ kind of counter-intuitive. If Edward wanted me alive, preserving my mouth-watering aroma maybe wasn't the best idea.

Edward nodded darkly in agreement with Aro's statement, then slowly started ambling towards us. Disturbingly, his cold eyes never broke from mine—but stared with a force that suggested he was trying to peel away my immortality and reveal the vulnerable human underneath.

I shuddered again before looking down uneasily at my pale, vampire hands. _Was I really that hideous to him in this state? Is that why he had been so reluctant to change me?_ Aro had implied as much when he'd explained what Edward was… but witnessing it for myself… that was another matter altogether.

Surprisingly, it hurt. Edward's cold, unforgiving eyes felt like two sharp needles slowly boring through my skin. My strange… alien skin…

Aro, noticing my discomfort decided to stand in my defense. "Then find yourself another human woman upon whom to slake your lusts, you foul incubus!" he spat venomously. He swept one hand away from himself in a broad arch as if to suggest that the world was full of alternative options—that there was no reason Edward needed to terrorize us. "You know I cannot reverse what has been done!"

Horrifically, Edward seemed to consider Aro's suggestion for a moment before responding. He rubbed his chin contemplatively with his fingers for a few moments before dropping them. "You're right," he declared flatly. "I'm done here."

Edward's words rang cacophonously in my ears. _You're right. I'm done here._ Edward was done. Finished. Fed up.

With me.

And even though Aro had quite thoroughly explained that I was useless to Edward as an immortal, hearing the man who had once promised over the altar to spend the rest of his life with me dismiss me from that life so casually cut deep. I realized as I stood there, frozen in the Cullen's dewy front lawn, that I hadn't quite fully accepted that his affection for me was totally false until this moment. That, until I'd received verbal confirmation from the man himself, I couldn't completely believe that absolutely _everything_ had been a lie.

But there was no denying it now.

And armed with this knowledge, I was furious all over again.

Edward turned on his heel almost immediately after his callous remarks. And without so much as a final backwards glance toward me, he slowly started walking away.

 _What?!_ I inwardly screamed. _He can't just leave!_

"Wait right there!" I snarled at Edward's retreating figure.

Languidly, Edward paused in the grass. Though he continued staring ahead, refusing to turn around and face me directly. A fact that only served to fuel my anger.

"You're not going to apologize?!" I shrieked at him, incensed by his nonchalant behavior.

Edward snorted, like the very notion was ridiculous. "Apologize? And what would I apologize for?"

My eyebrows lifted off my forehead in shock. Then the rage burning in my still-beating heart caused my fists to tighten at my sides.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe for _promising to love me forever_ and then _abandoning me!_ " I screamed at him.

Edward still didn't look at me. In fact, he didn't move a muscle, other than the ones required to speak. "I promised to love a girl named Bella until she died," he explained in flat, lifeless tone. His usage of the third person also wasn't very comforting. "But she's dead now."

I froze, unable to believe my ears.

 _She's_ _ **dead**_ _now?_

It didn't take long for my anger to thaw me out. "I'm not dead!" I growled in ferocious protest. "I'm right here!" I gestured in sharp motions toward myself. "In fact, my _heart is still beating_!" I added for good measure. Nevermind that, if the venom in my veins continued to progress, it soon wouldn't be.

Edward remained motionless for a few seconds, as if he was processing this new piece of information. The silence was uncomfortable and seemed to stretch on forever, even though it was actually rather short. Finally he said, "So it is," in a reluctant voice after listening to the thunderous sound. "But that changes nothing."

 _That changes_ _ **nothing**_ _?_ I repeated internally, incredulously. _Nothing at all?_

Edward sniffed the air sharply. "You drink _blood_ now." He flinched, clearly disturbed.

I stiffened as I realized Edward could probably smell exactly which _type_ of blood I had recently drank.

"So you're _dead_ to me."

Carlisle, Aro and I all stood back in complete, mortified shock for a few seconds after Edward delivered his chilling words. And Even Rosalie winced a little, considering her brother's statement to be a little harsh.

But my astonishment over being caught "red-handed"—or was it "red-mouthed"?—quickly melted into wrath.

"You _bastard!_ " I shouted.

I broke back into a furious sprint and rushed over to where my impassive ex-husband—I refused to use any other term now, even if our union was not formally dissolved—stood. It took maybe an eighth of a second to travel the whole way. And when I reached his statue-like form, I kicked him hard in the shins.

A loud _crack_ could be heard reverberating through the clearing. A crack that sounded like the shattering of hard skin and bone. And Edward immediately crumpled to his knees in the wet grass.

Though to my immense dissatisfaction, when my foot connected with his leg, Edward didn't make a sound. Instead, he just knelt, still facing away from me with an almost bored expression on his face, as if his smarting injury was merely an annoyance. Like it hardly mattered to him at all.

Enraged with his silence, I kicked him again.

Another loud _crack_ echoed through the air. This time, the noise startled a few nearby birds, who fluttered nosily away from their perches to seek a safer roost.

But again, Edward remained perfectly silent, and barely moving. He simply knelt, looking vacantly into the distant trees with an almost bored expression on his face.

"I can't believe I let myself love you for so long!" I bellowed, hoping to rile some kind of reaction out of him. "You're _sick_! You know that! _Sick!"_ I repeated in his ear.

Though again, this brokered no response.

"I hope whoever you go after next isn't as stupid as I was!" I vented, throwing my hands around my head in frustration. "Ugh!" I kicked him again, shattering something in his back. "How _dare you_ do this to me!"

Suddenly Edward decided to speak. "I might not… find anyone, after you," he mumbled darkly. His obsidian eyes stared glassily, hopelessly up into the cloudless blue sky. "You were so perfect you know… none of your thoughts in the way to bother me," he praised, a cruel smirk twisting his sparkling lips.

My entire face warped with repulsion. _So every appalling thing I've heard about you is true. How despicable._

"I doubt I'll get another chance," Edward expressed without disappointment. Only resignation.

Edward finally flicked his gaze back in my direction. Though, in actuality, he was looking over my shoulder at the lean, black-clad figure standing protectively behind me. "Maybe I should just ask your _friend_ here to kill me," he related with a hint of disfavor when he referred to Aro, though otherwise his voice remained completely without dimension.

Edward's suddenly suicidal bent shook me. I hadn't been expecting him to go down that route again so quickly.

But Aro wasn't caught off guard. In fact, he appeared to be expecting it.

Without a second's delay, Aro cracked his knuckles in preparation. "I would do it," he announced, actually startling Carlisle and I by sounding a little excited by the prospect. " _Gladly_ ," he emphasized with a feral, toothy grin.

Edward slowly rotated on his knees to face the elder vampire. One of his russet eyebrows lifted lazily in confusion. "Not after my powers anymore?" he asked, completely disbelieving.

Aro shook his head firmly. "Not after what you did to her." He inclined his head briefly in my direction. A motion which sent an entire flock of butterflies rushing into my stomach.

 _Aro was willing to sacrifice a powerful gift because the owner of it hurt me?_ I marveled. _He really was willing to go that far? To prioritize my wellbeing over his coven-building goals for the Volturi?_

I wasn't sure whether I should be elated or horrified. In that moment, I was a paralytic mix of both.

Especially as I watched Aro begin marching with a deadly aura towards the place where Edward knelt. It was unsettling to observe my ex-husband's face transition from utterly bored, to perfectly peaceful as Aro drew closer. And my gut twisted uneasily when I saw Edward lean backwards ever so slightly, exposing his neck with eagerness, as Aro paused beside him.

A vengeful part of me was delighted that Edward would finally be getting what he deserved. But the more compassionate, and perhaps more rational side of me was inwardly rebelling big time.

 _This isn't right,_ that warmer part of my heart asserted. _He might be sick. He might have hurt me. But I don't really think Edward deserves to die. Even if he really seems to want that right now…_

"Edward please, don't!" Carlisle pleaded desperately with his son.

Though it was Aro who halted upon hearing the doctor's labored cries.

"Don't do this!" Carlisle continued, begging. "There is always hope," he tried to reason with his suicidal companion. "Perhaps you could try dating vampires again…"

Edward snarled distastefully. "I don't _want_ a vampire." He rolled his eyes, like it was a ludicrous proposition. "I want a _human_."

Carlisle's golden eyes widened in comprehending horror. "You… you…" he stammered, unable to articulate properly in his state of total devastation. I think in that moment what being an incubus meant was finally starting to sink in for him.

I gulped uncomfortably as I witnessed the exchange. The truth was going to devastate Carlisle.

Perhaps even more than my hunting activities on the cliffs today.

Carlisle swallowed thickly before he found the right words. "This was never about her soul at all, was it, Edward?"

Edward said nothing. He merely remained in place, his neck still prominently bared in a convenient position for Aro to sink his teeth into. A position that _begged_ Aro to kill him.

"Edward, listen to me!" Carlisle shouted, waiving his hands frantically in the air, trying to garner his son's attention.

It had little to no effect.

"Did her soul ever even factor into this?" the doctor asked, his words tinged with a desperate desire for Edward to answer in the affirmative. Even though, at this point, even Carlisle had to admit that was unlikely.

Edward sighed in exasperation. "It was… a nice excuse," he confessed with a half-hearted shrug, no longer seeing any reason to lie.

Carlisle's face turned ashen in dismay. "Y-you _lied_ to me? About all of it?"

I winced in sympathetic pain. This had to be heart-rending for Carlisle to hear.

Edward grumbled something about how meaningless this conversation was going to be in a few minutes, but deigned to answer anyway. "It's true that I don't believe vampires have souls," Edward allowed. "Look at us." He lazily flicked a hand in the direction of his dazzling, prismatic skin, like it told the whole story. "We're _hideous_. Monsters. _Fiends_."

Carlisle evidently didn't agree with Edward's assessment. Puzzlement was written all over his face as he examined each of the immortals standing in the clearing with him, one by one, trying and failing to find anything ugly or monstrous to fault us for.

After a few moments, he finally shrugged and shook his head in defeat. "Edward, what exactly about us is…" he hesitated, searching for the right words. "…so repulsive to you?"

Now it was Edward's turn to be bewildered. "What about us _isn't_ repulsive?" he challenged right back. "Our skin is cold, stony, and sparkles like _sandpaper_ ," he started to list. "Our features are horridly angular, to a grotesque degree. We move too fast—like some kind of hellish demons. We _smell_ like spoiled perfume—"

Carlisle abruptly cut Edward off. "That's not… how I see things." He gazed down at his kneeling son with stark worry etching his features.

Edward furrowed his brows in incomprehension. "But you said… in the beginning, that you understood why I was disgusted with myself."

Carlisle ducked his head in shame and cleared his throat. "I meant that I understood why you might be disgusted with _what_ you are. As a vampire. As a being that has an instinctual drive to hunt human beings," he clarified, sounding deeply concerned.

"I understood why you might loathe yourself for that," the doctor went on. "I certainly did, in the beginning." A pained look overcame Carlisle's features as he referenced his torturous newborn years. "I hated that my new body craved human blood. But I never once believed that my immortal form was _ugly_."

Carlisle said the last word with such complete disbelief. As if he struggled to imagine that _anyone,_ mortal or immortal could think vampires were _ugly._

Certainly they could be monstrous in other ways. My recent failure on the cliffs, and furious behavior toward Edward and Rosalie had proved as much.

But physically revolting?

No way.

"Never?" Edward repeated, still arched backwards; still aching to have someone bite into his neck and rip his head away from the wound.

"Never," Carlisle affirmed with total conviction. "I honestly believed that you would find Bella even more beautiful as one of us, but only refrained because you wanted to preserve her soul."

Edward scoffed at the idea. "I would take away a _thousand_ souls if it meant that I could be attached to someone as perfect as Bella was," he said offhandedly, like it was no big deal.

When Carlisle stiffened, appalled by what he was hearing, Edward decided to elaborate. "I'm a _monster_ ," he gave as his reasoning. "I would damn her and _everyone she loved_ to Hell if that meant I could preserve her beautiful humanity," he soliloquized in a sickening tone of appraisal. "Her pink cheeks… her scent… her soft, warm, pliable skin…"

I fought the urge to vomit.

Aro too, looked deeply nauseated.

Even Rosalie, who'd been standing back as a mere observer for quite some time, shot an appalled glance down at her kneeling brother.

And Carlisle gasped, his golden eyes widening like saucers as he finally understood everything. And his mouth hung open in complete stupefaction.

"So it is true," Carlisle breathed, stunned. "You really are an incubus."

Without warning, suddenly Edward straightened up on his knees. He lighted to his, apparently fully healed, feet in a flash. Then took up a fierce stance in the dewy grass, just inches away from where Aro stood.

Edward snapped venomously at his father. " _Where_ did you hear about that?!"

Carlisle didn't dare say a word. But unfortunately, his mind betrayed him.

Edward immediately swiveled to face Aro, his expression livid. "You."

"Now, now, Edward," Aro chided, like he was chastising a small child. "It is the truth. And I can hardly be faulted for sharing that truth with our dear friend Carlisle," he rationalized calmly. Though, he took a few long strides backwards from Edward just in case.

"He wasn't supposed to know," Edward snarled, sounding betrayed. He balled his fists so tightly the knuckles looked ready to burst out of his skin. "He'll _hate_ me now."

Aro shrugged apathetically as if to say that wasn't really his problem.

But Carlisle shook his head. "I don't hate you, Edward. Aro has made it very clear that this—" he made a loose circular gesture toward Edward, "— _incubus_ thing was not something you chose."

The doctor's face was soured with sorrow, but it sounded like he meant it.

Carlisle sighed. "But all the same, I cannot let you continue to harm Bella."

Edward snorted derisively. A sound that made me bristle with anger. It was obvious that my feelings were of negligent importance to him. A fact which made my blood boil.

Carlisle's frown deepened at Edward's reaction. "Bella deserves happiness just as much, if not more, than you do, my son," he informed my ex-husband in a clipped tone. "Perhaps it would be best if you spent some time with the Denali clan," he suggested, sounding exasperated that it had come to this. "Maybe in a decade or so, we can come back together…?"

Carlisle ended his words in a hopeful lilt.

But Edward wasn't having any of it.

"You're kicking me out?" Edward growled, clicking his teeth together and furrowing his brow into a furious "V". "Why? So that she and her monster-baby can stay?" He stabbed an accusatory finger in my direction. Then his livid black gaze flickered over to where Aro hovered, just inches in front of him. "With red-eyes over here?"

Carlisle didn't say a word. But neither did he drop his gaze. He wasn't ashamed of his choice this time. The choice to support me and my desires over those of Edward's.

"Are you going to kick Rosalie out too?" Edward threw an errant hand in her direction. Though there was hardly any real venom in his voice when he mentioned his surrogate sister. I presumed he didn't really actually care enough about her fate with the Cullens to summon enough ire in his voice.

Carlisle calmly shook his head. "Not if she remains agreeable."

A brief look of intense relief washed over the blonde's features, before they rapidly turned desperate.

"Please don't kick me out!" Rosalie pleaded with Carlisle. "I'm not going to put up a fight this time," she promised—or at least, made the pretense of promising. "As long as I get to hold the baby…."

She added this as a sort of caveat before her anxious eyes flickered over to where I stood.

"I just… got a bit worked up before," she lamely offered as her excuse. "Sorry, Bella."

I didn't accept her apology. It didn't sound sincere at all.

Not to mention she had no right to be anywhere near my child.

But instead of riling Rosalie up again with a violent outburst, or the vicious words I _wanted_ to fling in her direction I simply remained silent. And gave her a vastly disapproving glare.

Rosalie trembled under the malevolent force of my gaze, and took another couple of wary steps backwards. I still had no idea what she thought was so scary about me. And astonishingly, Edward mirrored my bewilderment.

"It's just a newborn, Rosalie," Edward pointed out, gesturing limply towards me. "You've fought them before."

I gritted my teeth at the insinuation that I was an "it"; that I was an enemy.

Rosalie also looked both taken aback that Edward had referred to me in such a way, and a bit hesitant. She obviously didn't agree that her battle experience in June qualified her to be safe in any capacity around me.

"B-but the b-blood…" Rosalie stammered out fearfully toward Edward. She stared into my crimson eyes and clammed up.

 _The blood?_ I wondered, observing the frightened blonde carefully. _What is she talking about?_ _I don't smell any blood, besides the blood inside my own body. And if that's all she's smelling, then there's no reason to freak out. She's watched me drink human blood before…._

 _Albeit, out of a straw…_

I bristled at the possibility that there was a more obvious evidence of my recent hunting activities on my person. Something that outed me as a murderer.

 _Maybe there's a little stain near my lips?_ I considered, hoping it wasn't too ghastly.

I was just about to reach up and check when Carlisle's complexion suddenly turned ashen and rigid. Then, it melted into the strangest combination of horror and embarrassment.

Clearly, he felt partially responsible for whatever it was that Rosalie was observing about me—whatever this "blood" thing was. But to my total vexation, neither of them dared to explicitly say what it was about my visage that disturbed them so much. Instead, they merely exchanged uncomfortable glances, and shivered a little in place.

Edward scoffed at the two blondes' reactions, before spinning on his heels to face away from me again. "I guess, I'll see you in ten years, then," he announced emotionlessly before he slowly started shuffling away.

Carlisle nodded numbly. "I hate to see you go, but I really do believe this is for the best," he explained, deeply saddened, and yet firm in his conviction that this was the right choice.

A weird pang of panic struck me as I watched Edward slowly meander towards the far line of trees, clearly intent on following his surrogate father's instructions.

 _Wait! He still can't just leave! We need to break things off! Officially! I can't be tied to him forever!_

"Wait!" I called after him.

But this time, Edward didn't stop. He simply continued moseying on forward, with lethargic, purposeless steps, as though he hadn't heard me. As though my angry voice was just a gentle whisper of the wind.

"At least take your _damn_ ring before you go!" I shouted at the figure retreating slowly into the mass of trees.

Edward didn't pause or even look over his shoulder. The only response he gave was a half-hearted shrug, and a mumbled, "I can always buy another one."

 _Another one?_

"But…!" I started to protest. My voice faltered. "…it was your mother's… wasn't it?" I asked, suddenly uncomfortably uncertain of that fact.

 _With all that he'd lied to me about, couldn't that just as easily been a lie, too?_

It was, unfortunately too logical of an outcome for my comfort.

I swallowed thickly as I waited for Edward's response.

After pacing forward a few more steps, Edward stopped in the grass and burst out laughing. It was a cruel, dark sound. "You believed that?" he asked, still staring straight ahead, but sounding incredulous that I'd been so gullible.

A sharp, ferocious sound escaped my lips—one that put everyone in the clearing, besides Edward, on edge.

 _How dare he mock me like that! Telling me that great dramatic story about how it was his mother's ring when it was just some generic diamond…_

I bared my teeth and sank into a feral crouch. I was done with being humiliated.

But before I could even think about tearing across the considerable distance Edward had placed between us, suddenly I heard the front door of the Cullen's house fly open. And at the same time, a distant rustling of leaves that sounded like someone else was approaching from somewhere deep in the forest.

Automatically I swiveled to face the closer sound—that of the wooden door smacking against the house as it was opened sharply. As I turned, I caught sight of a dark-hooded figure rushed out of the entry way. And in fractions of a second my enhanced senses determined the person's identity through both sight and smell.

 _Renata._

She dashed down the wooden steps onto the gravel driveway as quickly as she could. But there was something off about her gait as she ran. Something haphazard and off balance. She teetered precariously as she crossed the barrier between the rocky gravel and warm summery grass. And just a few feet before she reached Aro—the person she'd been making a beeline for—she tripped on the hem of her pitch-black cloak, landing in an ungainly heap in the green blades at his feet.

Immediately Aro dropped to his knees in the grass, unconcerned with how the wet foliage might affect his Italian designer slacks. His gentle hands latched quickly onto Renata's tiny arms and helped heft her to her feet. And his mouth was already parted in the middle of asking whether or not the poor girl was alright, when I flitted to his side to see what I might be able to do to help.

But Aro's lips snapped shut as soon as he caught a good look at Renata's face. As her head rose to meet his gaze, we both saw that the dark circles encompassing her eyes had grown so large and black that they were now her dominant feature. And the irises in the center of that dark mass, while still vibrantly red, were glazed and delirious looking.

In short, she looked like a zombie.

While Aro and I helped her to her knees in stupefied shock, Renata lifted a thin, shaky arm, and pointed a trembling finger towards the rushing sound in the forest. Her glazed eyes, although nearly overcome with exhaustion, were wide with fear. And her white lips quivered as they spoke.

"M-master… I am… so s-sorry… I cannot k-keep him away any l-longer…"

Abruptly, Renata's outstretched arm dropped to her side. This was followed by her entire body going limp as a ragdoll in Aro's grasp. The sight made Aro panic. And he immediately began trying to revive her with desperate pleas and gentle shakes.

But in that moment, I was much more concerned with what the petite vampire had said than her current state of health. The rustling of forest leaves indicating someone was coming this way was closer now.

As Aro attended to his subordinate, vainly trying to wake her up, I turned toward the source of the sound. It was coming from the direction Edward was heading. And it was definitely moving fast enough to be a vampire—the thing most likely to be headed this way. But it didn't sound like one. The footfalls were much too loud.

Whatever this thing was, it had to be bear-sized at least. And it was barreling at top speed directly towards my ex-husband.

When the sound finally grew to an almost deafening volume—the kind that no one in the clearing could ignore—suddenly a huge mass of reddish-brown fur burst into view. Broken aspen branches and a flurry of bright green leaves littered the air around the shape as it tore out of the forest. A hair-raising snarl split through the clearing. And a furry creature landed gracefully on all fours just inches away from where Edward stood.

Suddenly, where nothing had been only moments before, a huge, mangy wolf towered over my ex-husband and bared its sharp, canid teeth. I hadn't seen anything like it with my news eyes yet, so it took a moment to process all the intricate textures and muscle movements before my sight.

But after a split second of confusion, I gasped as I recognized the color of the enormous creature's thick fur. And the intelligent gleam behind its deep, dark brown eyes.

 _Jacob._

I staggered back in shock. _Renata wasn't kidding when she said he was angry,_ I mused as I watched the wolf start snarling and barking in Edward's face like a savage dog. _He looks ready to rip Edward's head off._

And, alarmingly, Edward was slowly outstretching his arms like he would welcome it.

Horror washed anew over Carlisle's features as he watched his son move to embrace death. "No Jacob! Don't!" the doctor yelled desperately, drawing the wolf's attention toward himself.

As soon as his large dark eyes landed on Carlisle, the wolf immediately ceased growling and lowered into a less aggressive stance. But he didn't dare budge from his convenient position near Edward. Nor did he lose the guarded air about him that suggested one wrong move on Edward's part might rile him right back up again.

I exhaled in relief as I witnessed Jacob backing down. It wasn't enough to put me fully at ease, but it was certainly something.

As Jacob assumed a less violent position, Edward lowered his arms and rotated back to face his father with a sour expression. He looked like his father's interference had cost him a much awaited trip to the local parade, rather than saved his life.

Carlisle frowned in the direction of his son before turning his golden eyes back towards the enormous wolf in his front yard. "Please… let us be rational about this…" he begged of everyone, though particularly of Jacob.

The wolf narrowed his huge eyes skeptically, as though he failed to comprehend a reason why rationality had any place in this interaction. But he reluctantly decided to comply anyway. Taking a deep breath which filled his entire, furry abdomen, the creature fully relaxed, and slowly started to shrink.

As the russet-haired wolf decreased in size, the fur on its head started to give way to short, black hair. The creature's paws then started to spread and the toes gradually turned longer and thinner, until the front set had completely changed into human hands, and the back into human feet. The torso followed next, starting to shift from fur to flesh of the same approximate color. But when the change started traveling below the belt, the half-man, half-creature scurried back into the forest and ducked behind a bush to preserve modesty.

The five of us vampires in the clearing waited with bated breath as the wolf finished changing back into human form. And I breathed a heavy sigh of relief when Jacob finally walked back into our line of sight, barefoot and clad only in some stray pair of dark grey sweatpants he must have stashed in the ferns earlier.

Once he'd stepped out into the sunlight, Jacob stopped and put two petulant hands on his hips. "You'd better have a good reason for all of this, Doc," he snapped, impatience coloring his normally friendly tone.

His dark eyes flickered disapprovingly toward where Aro, Renata and I were situated on the front lawn. "You know that we don't take kindly to other bloodsuckers," he said with evident distaste.

I shivered as my friend's gaze passed over me without even registering who I was. He apparently saw me as some strange, monstrous outsider. Not as a simply immortalized version of myself.

 _Did I really look that different now? So different that I was nearly unrecognizable?_ I pondered with acute horror.

As I mulled over all the horrid possibilities relating to my new appearance, Jacob's cold eyes then flickered back to Carlisle. "Or lying about what happened to Bella." He gritted his teeth. "I don't buy that pathetic story you gave Charlie about some bullshit South American disease," he informed us tersely. "She's dead, isn't she."

He didn't even properly ask the question. He just declared it, like it was indisputable fact.

And when Carlisle didn't immediately respond, being too shell-shocked to speak by yet another person assuming my demise had already occurred today, Jacob immediately wheeled around to face Edward. "I knew it! You selfish bastard!" he screamed while charging towards the russet-haired vampire with clear lethal intent.

Instead of being terrified like the rest of us, Edward merely smirked. Then he offered a bare, extended neck in the angry shape-shifter's general direction like he'd offered to Aro before.

But before Jacob could get close enough to affect any damage in his human form, or change back into a wolf, Carlisle quickly interfered.

The doctor darted between the two in a flash and held up two staunch, forbidding hands. "Please, Jacob, just listen to me for a moment," he pleaded with the irate teenager in front of him. "Edward did not kill Bella. In fact, she is still very much alive."

Jacob's wrath quickly melted into complete confusion. "Then… what's up with all the secrecy?" he demanded harshly. He threw a hand up in the air to suggest that Carlisle's decision was nonsensical. "If she came back from her honeymoon just fine, why pretend like she's halfway across the world?"

Carlisle swallowed nervously. He flickered an almost imperceptible worried glance back in my direction before he sighed heartily. "There was a… _complication_ …" he explained vaguely.

Jacob groaned at the doctor's oblique reply. "Then _uncomplicate_ it," he ground out between gritted teeth.

Carlisle turned back to me more obviously this time. His hands fidgeted nervously in front of his chest and his golden eyes switched anxiously between Jacob and I for a few seconds before he decided to just come out with it. "Bella, is it alright if we tell him?" he enquired hesitantly. "Surely, it would be better if he understood the truth, rather than assumed the worst…"

Jacob immediately trained his eyes back on me as he heard Carlisle use my name. But the skepticism about my identity that was present in them didn't leave until I responded. And then it was immediately replaced with horror.

"Isn't it dangerous?" I hesitantly reminded the blond. "If Sam finds out…"

Jacob cut me off by raising a single hand. He then scrutinized me for a moment, his eyes swimming with confusion and hurt. And finally, he leaned forward and asked, sounding pained, "Bella, is that… really you?"

As Jacob hovered closer, I caught an unwanted noseful of his scent.

At first, I stiffened, afraid that the smell would turn me into the same remorseless killer that had attacked the unsuspecting hiker not even an hour before. But as I actually processed what I was smelling, that fear quickly evaporated. While there was a tiny hint of metallicity there, like the deer in the clearing, it was mostly overpowered by a strong, wet, earthy smell. A smell that was entirely unappetizing.

A smell like wet dog.

Instinctively I wrinkled my nose. The Cullens were right. Jacob really did reek.

But in that moment, I was much more concerned with how Jacob was feeling right now. The fear evident in his words and expression he wore made my heart sink in my chest.

 _How could one of my best friends in the whole world not even know that I was me? And why on earth was the idea so scary to him?_

With eyes shining with sadness, I asked an important question of my friend. "Is it… really so hard to tell?"

Jacob stiffened guiltily at my tone. I sounded completely devastated.

Then he abruptly turned sheepish and apologetic. "Well… to be fair… you don't exactly look like how I remember you…" he explained with a light chuckle, trying to turn his misidentification into a source of humor.

But ultimately, his joke fell flat. I didn't think it was very funny that everyone besides Carlisle, Renata and Aro seemed to think I'd transformed so drastically as to be a whole different person. It hurt, more than anything. Like he'd driven a steel pike straight through my heart.

Realizing that he'd struck the wrong cord with me, Jacob immediately backpedaled. "What I mean to say is… you're a lot prettier now… so…"

I choked at his back-handed compliment before rising to my full height and pacing angrily towards Jacob. "What, so I was so ugly before that _this—_ " I gestured lividly towards my partially glittering figure. "—couldn't possibly be the same person?" I demanded, affronted by the insinuation.

Obviously frightened, both by my attitude and sudden proximity, Jacob staggered back, and once again tried feebly to amend his statement to be more polite. But like before, he either floundered ineloquently, or just made things worse.

After successfully riling me up a fifth time, Rosalie, exasperated with the exchange, finally called out, "Just can it, you mangy mutt! You're just making her more upset!"

Jacob obeyed, but only after throwing a rather childish tongue out in the blonde's direction.

Carlisle sighed heavily and looked very much like he wanted to bury his head in his hands. The two were behaving like second-grade school children.

Then, unexpectedly Aro rose to his feet. Renata was unconsciously draped over his shoulder like a boneless mannequin.

Once he'd risen to his full height, which was almost an entire foot shorter than Jacob, Aro reached out with his free arm—the one not currently holding his subordinate firmly in place. It was a cordial gesture, like he wanted to give Jacob a handshake.

And surprisingly, with only a little hesitation, Jacob complied.

The exchange was brief, but I knew as Aro's pale fingers slipped quietly away from Jacob's russet ones, that the interaction had been successful on Aro's part. That the black-haired vampire had read the entirety of my best friend's thoughts without Jacob suspecting a thing. The tiniest of smirks I caught turning up the corners of Aro's lips gave him away.

I was about to voice a protest. The act seemed so underhanded to me—especially when I had been given ample warning of the extent of Aro's gifts before the man had ever touched me, despite the fact that I was wholly immune to his powers.

But before I could get out a single word, Aro had already swept a welcoming hand in the direction of the Cullen home. "Why don't you come inside?" he extended politely to the teen-aged shape-shifter.

I was shocked by his invitation. But I supposed Aro had gathered from Jacob's thoughts that such a thing wouldn't prove too disastrous.

"There's a lot to explain."

There was a dubious look in Jacob's dark eyes. But nonetheless he nodded. And then he followed all of us—minus Edward, who gave Carlisle one last, sarcastic wave before slipping away into the forest—back towards the house.


	19. Chapter 19: Evasive Maneuvers

**AN: A big thank you to all of my loyal readers. You guys inspire me to keep this story going! Hope you enjoy this latest installment!**

* * *

 _"[One] who wishes to fight must first count the cost"_

― Sun Tzu, The Art of War

…

CHAPTER NINETEEN: EVASIVE MANEUVERS

Carlisle went ahead to make sure Esme and Nessa were well out of sight and smell before the rest of us entered the house. He made us wait in the front yard while he ushered them away—giving Jacob the excuse that he was "wolf-proofing" the living room. And when he poked his head out the front door some minutes later to let us know it was safe to enter, I wasn't exactly sure where the pair had gone, besides out.

But as I passed over the threshold of the Cullen home, the doctor assured me in a quick whisper that the two were well, and wouldn't be in any danger from Jacob or anyone else. Which was more than enough for me.

Eventually I would want to see my daughter again, but her safety was of paramount importance. After all I'd gone through to bring her into this world, I wasn't about to be careless enough to let her slip from it. So I didn't press the issue, and simply filed in silently with the others.

After everyone made it inside, Aro briefly excused himself to lay Renata down in a comfortable place, while the rest of us—Carlisle, Rosalie, Jacob and I—congregated in the living room. As the four of us settled in, Emmett, who'd been watching football, turned off the TV and joined us.

When Emmett's eyes settled on me for the first time since my hunt, I was surprised to see his eyes go horrifically wide, and his feet stagger backwards on the carpet a bit like Rosalie's had in the grass before. I hadn't expected Emmett of all people to think my new appearance was frightening when he'd seen me as a partial-vampire before. But I was even more surprised when Carlisle suddenly came into the room from the kitchen, carrying a metal bowl filled with water.

I stared at the bowl in confusion for half a second before, for some unknown purpose, Carlisle set it atop the glass coffee table. He then pulled over an ottoman from another room to sit beside it. And produced an old rag blue rag from his pocket.

I still wasn't sure what he was planning to do with it. But I was not expecting him to dip the rag in the liquid and then immediately start dabbing it against my face.

I bristled against the damp, cool cloth. "What are you doing?"

My words drew the attention of Jacob and Rosalie, who, rather than sitting on the beige couches, had been heatedly bickering about seating arrangements. Neither wanted to sit near the other, but both apparently wanted to sit on the couch furthest from me. A fact that made my heart sink.

Though, when my confused question breached the air, they paused in their argument immediately. And as their eyes flickered warily over to where I sat, they, and Carlisle all suddenly frowned.

My heart sank even further in my chest as I witnessed this.

Though, at least after a thick sigh, Carlisle was willing to answer my question this time.

"You were a little—" Carlisle pursed his lips, searching for the least offensive word, "— _sloppy_ with your hunt," he said simply.

A jolt of mortifying realization shot through me. _Oh._

My hands trembled slightly upwards toward my chin, where Carlisle was wiping the most. But I didn't need to feel the crusted blood beneath my fingers to realize what must have happened. The fact that Carlisle had to pull the rag away from my face quite often and rinse it in the now pink water, was evidence enough.

And as he continued to press the cool cloth methodically against my skin, my mind uneasily calculated the damage. Apparently, based on the doctor's movements, not just my mouth, but the whole lower half of my face and neck was still covered in blood from my first kill.

I shuddered violently on the couch just thinking about it. _No wonder Jacob and Rosalie didn't recognize me before. I probably looked like a scene straight out of a horror film._

Eager to get clean and look like myself again as soon as possible, I turned to where Carlisle sat on his ottoman by the coffee table with desperation in my eyes. "Do you have any soap?"

Carlisle gently shook his head. "I really don't think that's necessary…"

I wasn't sure exactly why, but Carlisle's words made me panic.

"But I need to be clean!" I protested, prepping my muscles to spring off of the couch cushions and dart around the house in search of an ivory bar. My alien skin would never feel like mine if any trace of blood remained.

"I don't want any residue. I…"

My voice faltered. But I already knew what I had been planning to say.

 _I don't want any evidence of my crime to remain._

My mouth gaped awkwardly for a few seconds, searching for something else to say instead—something less incriminating. Something that wouldn't make me feel so guilty.

But before I could actually articulate another word, Carlisle interrupted me by dropping the rag into the water bowl with a light _sploosh_. Then he seized my hospital-gown-clad shoulders.

"Bella it's quite alright," he assured me in a paternal tone.

His tender voice had the intended effect of calming me down. I also took a deep breath to ease the last vestiges of tension out of my new, powerful muscles. But my mind still remained frazzled with worry over my undoubtedly monstrous appearance.

While I silently fretted, Carlisle then turned back, retrieved the rag from the disturbingly pink water, and made one final dab across my lips. "There," he announced, pulling the rag away to admire his handiwork. His lips turned up in a bright smile. "You're clean."

 _Well… my_ _ **skin**_ _was clean…_

"B-but…" I stammered, looking down and finding a dark brown stain crusting the edge of my hospital gown's collar. I fingered it hesitantly, before flinching away from the contaminated fibers as if I'd been burned by them.

Carlisle sighed as he collected the metal bowl and rag then rose from his seat on the ottoman to deposit them back in the kitchen. "If you're really concerned about it—" he said, pausing in the doorway, "—you can change your clothes and bathe later," he promised. "But right now we have some important things to discuss."

Carlisle inclined his head in the direction of the staircase leading to the second floor before he disappeared into the house's enormous kitchen. But I, still a bit distraught over being forced to remain in blood-stained clothes for a little longer, didn't turn to look where the doctor had been indicating immediately.

Instead, I waited a few seconds before gradually swiveling in that direction. And by the time my sluggish gaze reached the person who was somberly making his way down the stairs, Rosalie had already identified him. And already leveled a harsh accusation at him.

"And what exactly were you doing up there?" Rosalie demanded of the black-clad man. The sharpness in her voice clearly indicated she thought he was up to no good. "Just because you're like, vampire-royalty or whatever doesn't give you the right to just snoop around."

As Aro's face and lean figure gradually filled my view, he looked incredibly sad. After descending the fragrant, cedar steps, he paused at the base of the staircase and gave Rosalie an equally disapproving, though upsettingly milky stare.

My heart lurched as I saw it. The glossy whiteness in his eyes was how vampires cried. And it devastated me to see Aro in such an obviously afflicted state.

"Dear Renata needed a place to rest," Aro explained, struggling not to choke up with emotion. "It may take some time for her to recover her strength," he informed us with a downcast expression.

Worry for the petite vampire suffused my being. "Is she going to be alright?" I asked.

I'd never seen a vampire basically pass out before, so I had no clue as to how severe her condition really was.

 _Was Renata_ _ **dying**_ _?_ I considered in mute terror. _She certainly didn't look well…_ I thought, recalling the heavy, dark circles that had marred her usually flawless porcelain face. And they way she'd gone eerily limp in Aro's arms several minutes before.

Aro's fingers fluttered nervously in front of his chest. "I do believe she will recover," he offered with considerably less confidence than was comforting. He sighed and averted his gaze to peer guiltily at his polished leather shoes. "Though I should not have pushed her so hard," he chided himself. "She is, unfortunately at times, a little too eager to please me."

I nodded glumly, sympathizing with Aro's plight. We shared an understanding gaze for a few seconds. A gaze that communicated that I didn't blame him for wanting to keep us safe from Jacob—but also was genuinely concerned for Renata's well-being.

As we silently comforted one another, the glossiness in his eyes gradually started to fade…

But the moment was ruined when Rosalie, who evidently had no compassion for the ancient's little red-eyed companion, butted into our conversation with another accusation.

"Where did you put her?" Rosalie snarled, stomping several steps closer to Aro. "You didn't dare put her in _my_ room, did you?"

Clearly, if he had, that would have made Rosalie very upset. Her already poised-to-be-pissed-off expression told me that much.

But rather than answering aloud immediately, Aro's frown simply intensified. And after a lengthy pause, he slowly shook his head.

"So where—?" Rosalie started to ask, in the same barbed tone.

Heaving a heavy sigh of exasperation, Aro cut Rosalie off. "If you really _must_ know, I placed her in the only room in this labyrinth of a house that has a bed!" he expressed with marked frustration. He apparently didn't like having the location of his resting subordinate being forcibly drawn out of him like information in a criminal case.

Rosalie and I both stiffened after Aro's remarks. We knew exactly which room that was.

 _Edward's_ room.

The room that Edward had only placed a bed in for my benefit, when I'd come over to stay at the Cullen's house the night before the battle with the newborns.

As I mulled over Aro's decision, I concluded that laying Renata to rest from over-taxing her abilities in Edward's room made sense. It was a practical solution, for sure. The bed in that room was comfortable, and in Edward's absence her presence there would be relatively unconstructive to the Cullens.

But just thinking about the furniture I'd tried to get Edward to have sex with me for the first time on so many months ago made my stomach churn with nausea.

I tried not to think about it too hard, and focus on the present. To focus on the gentle dip in the cushions beside me as Aro took his seat. To focus on the sound of the other vampires shuffling into position around me afterwards. And to focus on the story that Carlisle was telling Jacob, now that we were all settled on the couches—Aro in the seat directly next to me, Rosalie and Emmett on the couch to my left, Carlisle on the couch to my right, and Jacob on the opposite couch.

It was obvious that Carlisle was omitting some key details in his retelling. That much was discernible from Rosalie's constant eye-rolling. And Aro's rather suspicious looks in my direction. But I wasn't able to tell exactly _what_ he was leaving out, because it was too much of a struggle to keep my mind locked in the now.

Instead, my thoughts flitted back between amorous memories of Edward—now soured to a repulsive degree by my current knowledge of his true character—and the grisly memories of my earlier hunting activities. I tensed and quivered a little in my seat as disturbing image after image of carnage or tangled limbs, bombarded my hypersensitive mind. It was impossible to pay much attention to what the doctor was telling Jacob with the hiker's high-pitched screams and Edward's, now-terrifying, pleasured moans echoing in my head.

And for some unknowable reason, it was nearly impossible to break out of the seemingly never-ending chain of disturbing memories. I labored for a long time to banish the nauseating images and sounds from my mind and exchange them for more pleasant thoughts. But no matter what methods I employed, the onslaught of frightening and guilt-inducing pictures just wouldn't let up.

It wasn't until what must have been several hours later, when Jacob directly addressed me that I broke out of my appalled reverie.

Jacob's dark eyes betrayed a deep concern. "Is all of this true, Bella?"

Caught a little off guard, I merely stuttered out, "Y-yes…" hoping that I could trust Carlisle's version of recent events to be accurate enough. I felt horribly embarrassed that I'd almost completely missed what the doctor had said. But I wasn't about to tell Jacob that I hadn't been listening.

And though my response was shaky, Jacob seemed to accept it.

He nodded solemnly, then looked expectantly towards me. "Is it… okay if I see her? The baby?" he asked a little hesitantly. "I've gotta admit… I'm very curious…"

Jacob's casual reference to my daughter had me stiffly upright in my seat. _They'd told him about that?_ Of all the details to include, that was the one I hadn't been expecting. _Wasn't that_ _ **dangerous**_ _?_

Aro himself had seemed to believe so, only a day prior—which is why he'd instructed Renata to keep Jacob away in the first place. He and I had both agreed at the time that due to Jacob's mind-link with the wolf pack and the virulent vampire rumor-mill that telling anyone who didn't already know about my child was dangerous.

So what had changed?

 _Did Aro really see something in Jacob's mind that eliminated the danger inherent in sharing that information? And… as a result, was Carlisle really going to let Jacob near my child?_

Automatically my mind rebelled at the idea of someone who could grow fangs and claws being anywhere near my vulnerable baby. _Warning, Danger, Danger,_ my brain chanted as horrifying images of my daughter being ripped to shreds by an enormous, feral wolf bombarded my vision.

But to my immense relief, Carlisle gently shook his head. Though, disturbingly his worry came down on Jacob's side. "Nessa is young and not very disciplined right now…" he cautioned my friend. "She might try to hurt you."

A lump formed in the pit of my stomach at the notion that Carlisle perceived my infant daughter to be more of a threat than six-feet of muscle that could turn into a bear-sized wolf. I hadn't seen her since she was born, so I couldn't be certain how strong or violent she really was. Maybe she really _was_ powerful enough to take Jacob on—a terrifying thought.

Or maybe Carlisle was exaggerating to keep my daughter safe.

Though, without proof either way, I worried that Carlisle was telling the truth.

Jacob, however wasn't phased in the slightest by Carlisle's words. He merely chuckled at the warning. Then flexed his enormous biceps. And flashed a cheeky smile. "Worried that I can't handle a baby vampire?"

Carlisle frowned. "It's not so much that you cannot handle her, as it is that we're concerned with what the other members of your pack might think of her," the doctor explained calmly and clearly.

The warning sirens blaring in my head ceased immediately. I breathed an audible sigh of relief. _Carlisle doesn't actually think Nessa is a real threat against Jacob's wolf-form._ _He's just trying to keep her safe from Sam._

As I relaxed, Carlisle continued, "If Nessa tried to bite you, and you were to transform to defend yourself…"

He trailed off. But it was clear based on the comprehension dawning in Jacob's broad features that he understood.

Jacob nodded once, his face rapidly turning serious. "Right, the mind-sharing thing, I get it," he acknowledged, sounding a bit put out that he wasn't going to get to meet my daughter, but perfectly agreeing with the doctor's logic. "Yeah, Sam isn't likely to think that your little 'experiment' is a good thing," he agreed, snorting a bit in derision at his alpha and his extreme prejudices.

"She's not an 'experiment'," I cut in sharply, a little offended by Jacob's choice of words. I'd had it up to 'here' with people referring to my offspring as anything other than an innocent child.

"I just meant that your Nessie's a whole new species, basically," Jacob offered in his own defense. "A hybrid, like the ones they make in labs in the movies," he explained with a shrug. "I mean, sure she was an accident…" he acknowledged weakly, as though the fact that Edward and I hadn't been planning to prove that vampires were fertile under unusual circumstances, didn't change the fact that we'd unwittingly done so. "But Sam isn't going to see a substantial difference either way."

Numbly, I nodded. Jacob was right. Whether our creation of Nessa was intentional or not, Sam wouldn't care. He would only see a problem. And quite possibly a problem that needed to be immediately eradicated.

But just as I was pondering what we could possibly do to either dissuade Sam from such an action, or make sure he never knew that Nessa existed, I realized there was something wrong with what Jacob had said.

"Wait, what did you call my daughter?" I demanded.

Jacob started in his seat a little at the sharpness in my new, bell-like voice. His hands wriggled uncomfortably in his lap for a few seconds. And then he looked toward the doctor with an expression that begged for defense, should I become sufficiently riled up.

"Uh… an accident?" Jacob repeated uncertainly, worried that he'd overstepped his bounds and that I might lash out at him with all my newborn strength for it.

I narrowed my eyes. That wasn't the answer I was looking for. "No, before that."

"Uh, Nessie?" he contributed warily, still unsure as to what I was asking for. "That's her name, right?"

 _Nessie?_ I prickled at the word. _As in, the Loch Ness Monster?_

"Her name. Is. Ness _a_ ," I bit out, making sure to emphasize the last vowel so that he wouldn't get it confused again. The last thing I needed was for one of the few people who didn't seem to think my daughter was some kind of hellish fiend to nickname her after a mythological monster.

Jacob held up two hands in surrender. "Hey, I was close, okay? Cut me some slack," he urged in a playful, friendly voice. "Nessie, Nessa, they're basically the same…"

"No. They're. Not," I declared adamantly. I clenched my fists at my sides in an only halfway successful attempt to contain my anger. " _Nessa_ means 'miracle'. _Nessie_ , is another name for the Loch Ness Monster," I informed him acidly, my teeth gritted and profusely leaking venom. "And my daughter is a miracle, _not_ a monster."

Jacob held his surrendering hands up even higher. "Right," he acknowledged, not really sounding fully convinced. "Sure," he added with a level of sarcasm I didn't appreciate. "Got it."

My teeth clicked as they snapped together. And a low growl threatened to bubble from my throat. _He's not taking this seriously enough._

Jacob leaned back from my threatening expression, his face gradually turning ashen with fear. And his eyes darted back over to Carlisle, begging him to serve as back up in the event that I lunged across the living room for his russet-colored throat.

"Perhaps…" Aro interjected, gesturing with two hands lowering, palms-facing down, in the air, as a visual cue for the both of us to cool our jets a little, "…It would be in your best interest, young Jacob, to assume your birthright," he suggested politely. "Then, the issue of how the others might react would be avoided. At least, for the time being."

Aro spoke as though his words made all the logical sense in the world. But both Jacob and I could only stare blankly at the man as though he'd just recited a list of his favorite cheeses.

 _Assume his birthright? What on earth was Aro talking about?_

After looking with desperate confusion in my direction, and then ascertaining that I had no clue what the elder vampire was getting at either, Jacob sat back in his chair and said, "Forgive me, but I don't speak Dracula."

Aro's lips twitched into the tiniest of smiles at the moniker. And then he kindly decided to rephrase. "As I understand from Edward, you are Ephraim Black's great-grandson, yes?"

Jacob blinked rapidly in bewilderment upon hearing this. "Hold up, the leech told you about that?"

He sounded utterly betrayed. And he shivered the tiniest bit at the way Aro was looking at him with expectant crimson eyes. The same kind of eyes, minus their color, that Sam had given him in the weeks prior to his first phasing.

"In a fashion, yes…" Aro confirmed in a buttery drawl.

Aro and I shared conspiratorial looks. We both knew that "told" wasn't really the right verb for how Aro had obtained that information from Edward. "Read it in his mind" was a lot more accurate. But evidently Aro wasn't ready to reveal the nature of his powers just yet.

"And… what of it?" Jacob puffed up his chest a little and tried to sound like all the fuss about him being related to the chief was no big deal.

But I knew him well enough to know that underneath his tough façade, Jacob was terrified of the prospect of being expected to inherit his great-grandfather's legacy and responsibility. The idea of being seen as someone important and in charge made the young shape-shifter's stomach clench uneasily.

Aro continued, his eyes gleaming with the awareness of Jacob's internal struggle. "Well," he began slowly, in his gentlest, feathery voice, so as to soothe Jacob as much as possible. "It is my understanding that you _could_ be the leader of the pack if you chose to be so. _That_ is your birthright."

"Yeah," Jacob acknowledged hesitantly. "So… you want me to… what?" he asked, bewildered by Aro's insinuations. "Assume command and just order everyone, including Sam to just lay off?"

Aro tapped his chin in consideration. "That is… one potential solution," he allowed. Though it clearly wasn't the solution he'd been thinking of. Or the one he preferred. "But just as you found a way to circumvent your leader's orders when it came to letting Bella know of your nature, Sam is sure to find some loophole eventually…"

 _Oh, right. I'd almost forgotten about that._ But Aro had a good point. When push came to shove, Jacob had found a way to go around Sam's orders not to tell anyone about the pack. And Sam, in a similar situation would probably find a way to go around Jake's orders to not hurt Nessa.

Jacob, however, was much more concerned with Aro's sources, than the raw info. "Wait, how do you know about that?" he probed, his dark eyes narrowed, and sharp suspicion lacing his words.

Aro smiled—one of his infuriating 'that's-for-me-to-know-and-you-to-wonder' smiles.

"It is my business to know these things," he said as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "As Carlisle told you, I _am_ the foremost authority when it comes to supernatural matters…"

Jacob frowned, clearly not impressed with the ancient's answer. But he didn't press it. He waved dismissively in Aro's direction. "Yeah, yeah, I was listening. Volturi, and all that."

Aro regarded the wolf shape-shifter in front of him quizzically. "Do you doubt my estimation is correct?"

Jacob sighed heavily in resignation. "No. You're right." He then swiveled his head around to take in all of us. "So what do we do?"

Aro steepled his fingers together as he presented his version of the plan. "I would propose that you assume your birthright, but not annihilate Sam's claim," he began, frustrating practically all of his with his oblique words.

At seeing our confused expressions, he elaborated. "To put it more simply, young Jacob would become the alpha of his own pack. He would no longer be tied to Sam. But would be his own entity."

"You… you really think I can do that?" Jacob sounded just as impressed as he was dubious.

I too, shared some of Jacob's awed skepticism. _That was an option? Is that why Aro thought it was safe to tell Jacob the truth. Well, at least most of it?_

 _I mean, if Jacob really could do that… that would solve a lot of problems._

Carlisle too seemed a little hesitant to accept that such an outcome was possible. He, with the rest of us—minus Rosalie, who had long since tuned out of the conversation and was tracing the patterns on the ceiling with bored eyes—looked expectantly at Aro, waiting for his endorsement.

Aro nodded confidently. "I _know_ you can," he asserted without a shadow of a doubt. "It is, quite simply, in your blood."

Jacob dramatically rolled his eyes. "Right. Blood. Of course." He then looked at me with a half-sarcastic, half-pleading expression. "Why does it always have to be blood?"

"Well, more accurately, it is in your DNA," Carlisle cut in academically. "If we must be precise…"

Jacob shook his head and gestured all around himself for us to stop arguing semantics. "Okay, okay, I got it. I've inherited alpha powers." He then looked up at Aro, clear reservation in his features. "But you have to know, I never wanted to be a leader."

Aro's head bobbed knowingly. "I am well aware," he acknowledged cordially. "But this way, you will not have to be," he offered as one potential perk. "The only person you will rule is yourself."

Jacob pursed his lips in deep thought. He seemed to like the sound of that, if the way his russet lips turned up at the edges ever so slightly was any indication. But after a brief moment, those same lips curled downwards and his eyes turned dark and doubtful again.

"Even if this does work—and that's a big even—the others are going to know that I'm gone," Jacob told Aro in a grave voice. "Sam's going to feel my rebellion. And the others will wonder why they haven't heard my thoughts in a while," he explained, a nervous sweat breaking out on his forehead just contemplating it. "They're going to get suspicious," he declared as an inevitability. "They're going to try to find me, and figure out what happened."

We all looked anxiously toward Aro again. Jacob had a good point.

Even if this did work out as Aro envisioned it would, his plan wouldn't eliminate all of the obstacles that stood in our way. _How did he plan to address those?_

Under our scrutinizing gazes, Aro didn't appear off-put in the slightest. He simply gestured broadly to the four of us and said, "Then we will just have to come up with a convincing lie."

…

Our little impromptu meeting disbanded shortly after Aro's final remarks. The ancient himself almost immediately disappeared back upstairs to check in on Renata. And as soon as Carlisle gave me the okay, I darted out of the living room into the nearest bathroom so that I could shuck off my blood-stained hospital gown and take a proper bath.

As I carefully turned the elegant, silver taps, trying my best not to crush them under my hard fingers, I tested the water underneath my hands. While the liquid ran over them, I was surprised to find my preferences for water temperature had drastically changed. Instead of wanting the hottest water that wasn't quite scalding—which had been my favorite to bathe in as a human—the most comfortable water to me now was considerably cooler. By my estimation, a tepid eighty-five degrees Fahrenheit.

It still felt warm over my fingers—a testament to how cold I had become. But in order to obtain such water, I had to turn the expensive knobs almost all the way down to the little chrome "C" that marked the coldest water this tub would provide.

After adjusting the taps to provide the perfect temperature, I put the plug in the tub's drain. And while I waited for the large, white basin to fill, I paced, naked around the bathroom.

I wasn't nervous or anything, there just really wasn't anything else to do. But as I plodded methodically across the cool, tile floor, I caught a hint of my reflection in the vanity mirror.

As I turned to face it, what I saw caused my whole body to lurch in astonishment. It was my first time looking in a mirror since my transformation. And as I peered, awestruck at the unfamiliar face that greeted my eyes, I suddenly felt a little less angry with Rosalie and Jacob for not immediately recognizing me.

It wasn't just the fact that my face had been smeared in blood when they'd seen me that made me hard to identify, I realized. Even with all evidence of my recent hunt washed away, my appearance was totally different.

Instead of my usual, boring self, an impressive beauty stared back at me with wide, curious eyes—eyes the same violent crimson color as Aro's. Her hair fell in dark, mahogany waves, that were a little wind-tossed, but still looked like they belonged in a shampoo commercial, rather than in real life. These gorgeous locks framed a perfectly symmetrical, strikingly angular face. And the skin on this face, in addition to being a flawless ivory, glowed dimly in patches under the fluorescent lights.

I strained a little to find anything recognizable in the glass. My button nose was still there—albeit straightened and a hair smaller than I remembered. I also recognized the heart-shaped curve of my face, which was mostly left alone. And the color of my hair hadn't really changed either, even though it was more full and lustrous than it had ever been during my human life.

After a little more scrutiny, I sighed in relief. My new face wasn't _totally_ alien. Though it would take a little getting used to.

I stared at myself for a few more minutes, trying to become accustomed to my new look, before I turned back to the bath. It was almost full now, so with more, deliberate, delicate motions, I turned the taps off. And then sunk slowly into the warm, refreshing water.

There was a brand new, ivory soap bar waiting for me on a little shelf above the tub, but as I grazed it gently over my skin, I realized with a little chagrin that Carlisle was right. I didn't really need it. Thanks to his attention earlier, my skin was already clean.

Still, as I set the soap aside, it was nice to soak in the tub for a little bit. The warm water was very relaxing. And it was nice not to have to face anyone else right now. Or have to face the consequences of what had just happened on the grey cliffs earlier today just yet.

I probably stayed in the tub for over an hour. Vampire fingers and toes didn't get all pruney, it appeared—which was my usual cue to get out of the bath. So it wasn't until Aro knocked worriedly on the bathroom door that I was jolted out of my meditative state, and back into reality.

"Bella?" Aro asked, his knuckles wrapping gently against the wooden door. "Are you alright in there?"

"I'm fine," I announced, springing to my feet, and causing a loud splash of water in my wake as I hurried out of the tub. As I stepped onto the lush bathmat, I yanked the nearest, fluffy white towel off of the chrome towel rack and wrapped it hastily around my body.

"Just, lost track of time," I added to reassure him that nothing had gone wrong.

Aro exhaled in relief. "I am glad to hear you are well," he said through the door. "I was starting to worry, with how prolonged your absence was, that something bad may have happened to you," he expressed, his voice wavering with concern. "Portions of you are still mortal, after all…"

My breath hitched as I too, recalled this important fact. My heart and lungs, at the very least were still operating—which I surmised meant dying from drowning or being impaled were still options. And even though my skin all seemed to respond to temperature the same now, some portions still didn't glow under the fluorescent lighting. Portions which might still be vulnerable to clumsy injury.

Eager to reassure him as best as I could, I seized the brass door knob in front of me and pulled the bathroom door open so that Aro could see that I was fine. As I became exposed to Aro's view, the anxious furrow in his brow evaporated. And his ruby eyes widened with a strange combination of relief, excitement and—was that… _arousal_?—as they raked over my dripping wet, towel-clad form.

I tried, and failed not to blush as Aro's heated gaze roved over me. Absently, I wondered how much longer I would be able to do that. It was _embarrassing_.

Especially the way my burning cheeks only made Aro's lips spread wider, into an enormous, wicked grin.

Trying to ignore the pair of eyes that were focused on my naked-under-this-towel body, with an intensity that made me worry he possessed X-ray vision, I went back to my original point.

"See?" I asked, my fingers coiling tighter around the fluffy cotton encasing my torso. "No injuries."

Aro nodded once. "Ah yes," he acknowledged. "That I do see. Although, it appears that you _also_ have no clothes…"

Aro made a loose, circular gesture towards the skimpy towel that was all that preserved my modesty at this point. And the blush decorating my cheeks spread, hot, down my neck and onto the tips of my ears.

I was about to protest Aro's observation—simply on the grounds that it made me uncomfortable—but as I mulled it over, I had to concede that he was right. There was no way I was putting that crusty old hospital gown back on. And, in my haste to make sure I was completely clean, I hadn't thought to bring any additional articles of clothing into the bathroom with me.

Seeing the anxiety etching into my new features, Aro's huge grin softened into a much less predatory smile. "Do not fret, my dear," he placated, taking a few steps back to assure me his intentions were not untoward. "I am sure Esme would not mind if you borrowed something of hers."

That was true. Esme, unlike Rosalie and Alice, was really generous with her things, after all.

But as I looked past Aro, at the tall wooden staircase leading to the second floor, where Esme and Carlisle's room was located, my teeth set apprehensively into my lower lip. It was a lot farther away than I had hoped.

And I really didn't want to have to walk all the way over there, only dressed in a towel, in front of everyone who might still be congregated in the living room.

Carlisle, I imagined, could handle the shock in a mature manner. Rosalie would likely be scandalized—though her opinion hardly mattered to me anymore. And Emmett would, to my complete mortification, probably use the opportunity to make horrendous innuendos.

But it was Jacob whose reaction I was most worried about. To the best of my knowledge, he still harbored pretty intense feelings for me—even if they weren't fully reciprocated. So it would be cruel to strut in front of him almost naked when my sights were currently set on someone else.

Specifically, the someone else who stood in front of me, tapping their chin in deep thought, apparently trying to ascertain what we should do about my current predicament.

As he considered our options, I still marveled at how impossibly handsome he was with my new, enhanced vision. The fine, chiseled edge of his jaw, looked sharper than ever. The striking point that his raven hairline came to, contrasted even more severely with his chalky skin tone. And every other flawless feature was simply higher definition, letting me enjoy each perfect angle and curve to a fuller degree.

A flurry of hyperactive butterflies flew into my stomach as I tried to memorize every plane of Aro's face. Though, paradoxically, the heat in my face cooled a bit as I realized Aro was no longer staring at me with similarly hungry eyes.

After switching his piercing gaze between myself and the door to Esme and Carlisle's room for several seconds, Aro's face finally lit up, having an epiphany.

"Wait here, my darling," Aro instructed, motioning for me to stay in the bathroom. "I will go fetch you something to wear."

Immediately, Aro spun around on his inky black heels and made a beeline for the stairs. I watched in awe as he flitted past the figures in the living room, and up the steps—not as a blur, but a full-resolution person—before he disappeared into Carlisle and Esme's room.

He only remained absent from my view for a few seconds, before he suddenly reappeared at the top of the stairs. Again, I watched, unblinkingly, as he rushed with clothes in tow, back down the stairs, across the living room, and up to the bathroom door. The door behind which I still cowered, clutching a damp towel like my life depended on it.

When Aro came to an abrupt halt in front of me there was a tall stack of neatly folded articles in his arms. He gently pushed the pile in my direction. "Here, I think these should suffice."

Making sure the edges of my towel were secured tightly beneath my armpits, I reached out to receive the offered garments. Luckily, nothing slipped during the exchange. Though, there were a lot more items than I had been expecting.

After depositing the pile in my arms, Aro shuffled back a few steps and quietly shut the bathroom door to give me the privacy to change. When he was fully out of sight, I set the stack down, threw my towel back over the chrome rack, and actually began to examine what Aro had selected for me.

And as I separated each article from the stack and laid them out all around me on the cool tile floor the illogical number of items suddenly began to make sense. Rather than just grabbing a simple shirt and pants and the necessary pair of undergarments, Aro had put together an entire, rather fashionable ensemble.

Over the rather racy bra and panties he'd selected for me, he apparently expected me to wear a long-sleeved button up, a stylish sweater, a vest to go _over_ the sweater, skinny jeans, thick socks, and knee-high leather boots. The embarrassing, lacy undergarments aside, all in all, it wasn't too bad of an outfit. Aro at least had the sense to pick flat, manageable shoes, rather than the killer stilettos Alice would have provided in a similar situation.

Though I fought hard not to laugh as I took in the color scheme. Everything was black.

But I wasn't about to complain. Clothes were clothes, after all. So after giving my wet hair one last twist into the sink to get rid of any extra water, I quickly tugged on each layer, until I was fully suited up.

When I finished buttoning the last button on the vest, I gave myself a quick appraisal in the vanity mirror. Black didn't look half-bad against my pale skin I was a little surprised to notice. And despite Esme being several inches taller than me, all the clothes fit pretty well.

I had to roll up the hems on the jeans before tucking them into the tall, leather boots Aro had provided. But that was the only necessary adjustment. Everything else fit like a glove.

Once everything was in place, I reopened the bathroom door and strolled out to greet Aro again. I tried not to strut like I was waking the catwalk as I moved toward him. But my new body moved with such impeccable grace that it was hard not to.

Aro inhaled in delight as he took me in. "Just as I thought. Black suits you," he informed me with unbridled glee. "Though, there is one thing missing…" he decided after a moment of observation.

Bewildered, and a little frightened that I might have forgotten to put on one of the crucial items in my haste, I looked down at myself. But as far as I could see, nothing was out of place in my stylish, all-black ensemble.

When I finally looked up, after several minutes of self-scrutiny, to my horror, Aro was nowhere to be seen. Though, I exhaled heavily in relief when he reappeared, only seconds later, bearing an ornately carved wooden box in his hands.

I recognized the box immediately from the tasteful gold and ruby accents decorating the sides, and the familiar golden Volturi crest adhered to the top. It was the box that held the enormous diamond necklace Aro had gifted to me as a transformation present.

My eyes widened in astonishment as the Aro delicately pulled the lid open and held it out to me. The necklace was even more gorgeous than I remembered—the woven golden chain gleaming pristinely and the huge diamond's many facets throwing eight-color rainbows in every direction under the hallway's bright lights.

"Would you do me the honors?" he asked, barely able to contain his excitement.

"S-sure," I stammered.

I was still a little stunned by the fact that Aro thought I was worthy of such an impressive bauble. My fingers trembled ever so slightly as they drifted over the cool metal chain. And I shook all the way down into my inky leather boots as I delicately extricated the necklace from its velvet resting place.

Lifting my damp hair out of the way with one hand, Aro helped me secure the opulent jewelry around my neck with the other. As his hands pulled away and the full weight of the diamond hung around my neck I was surprised by how heavy it was. A real, tangible weight bearing against my still thundering heart.

Though, fortunately, it didn't feel heavy enough to give me a headache.

"There," Aro breathed, floating backwards to admire his handiwork. "I am afraid Alice's vision did not do you justice…" he told me rapturously. His eyes raked over me keenly again. "You are even more beautiful than she showed me you would be."

My face flamed again under his effusive, and wholly undeserved compliments. But then, I blinked once in surprise as I came to an important realization.

"Wait… this was what Alice saw?"

I wasn't sure exactly why, but that felt like an important milestone.

Though as I pondered the implications if that were true—that this may have been the first glimpse of my immortal beauty that Aro had ever seen—I fingered my wet hair nervously. Why I always managed to be presented to Aro with damp, frizzy locks was beyond me. But I was starting to worry that it was becoming a trend.

And to my complete mortification, Aro nodded.

I groaned.

Aro's exultant happiness quickly melted into worry. "Is something the matter?"

"Why is it that you always end up seeing me with ugly wet hair?" I lamented, pulling on a few of the stringy strands in demonstration. Granted, as a partial-vampire, my wet hair looked a lot better than it had as a human, but that was beside the point.

Aro's apprehensive features softened immediately. He drifted forward to give my damp head an affectionate pat. "It is far from ugly," he reassured me in a whisper that tickled my ears. "In fact, I have always found it quite… what is the modern word for it again? …ah yes… _sexy_ ," he purred, tousling my already messy locks a bit with his fingers before pulling back.

I giggled profusely at his playfulness. And I was pretty sure my cheeks were going to need a visit to the ICU after burning for so long.

But two could play at this game.

"Sexy?" I asked incredulously. My fingers twirled absently in my damp locks as I made my best, pouty flirty face. "And what exactly about wet hair is sexy?"

This time, Aro leaned in close—close enough that his long black hair tickled my ears. And then he breathed his words out in such a low whisper it was almost nothing more than a gentle breeze. Though, thanks to my newly enhanced hearing, I could hear him enunciate each syllable perfectly.

"I like to imagine it is not the _only_ thing that is wet…."

A jolt of electricity shot down my spine as I registered Aro's meaning. And now I was certain that my entire body was flushing.

And the saucy way Aro chuckled as he drew back from me and started walking back to the living room only corroborated my theory.

Though underneath all the unbearable heat and flocks of butterflies suffusing my being, a little fire of irritation fumed. _Aro couldn't just drop a bomb like that and then walk away!_

I stormed after him into the living room where Jacob, Carlisle and two of the doctor's surrogate children still sat. They appeared to be embroiled in a rather serious discussion—probably still trying to figure out the best next move for Jacob—when Aro and I walked in. Though whatever words had been on Carlisle's lips abruptly died in his mouth as everyone turned to look at us.

We must have been quite the scene, Aro slinking away from me with a smoldering look in his eyes, and I, beet-red from head to toe, stomping into the living room after him. The fact that I was now wearing all-black, rather than the dingy, white nightgown from before, was also probably a bit of a shock.

While most of the uneasy quartet looked over the two of us with worried eyes, Emmett surprised me by breaking into a mischievous smile. "Trouble in paradise?" he asked, the innuendo thick in his voice.

Rosalie elbowed him hard in the shoulder. "Don't encourage him," she ordered her husband, while glaring daggers at Aro. "You might give him—" the blonde shuddered, "— _ideas_."

Jacob, who was starting to catch on, gave Rosalie a cold, critical look. "What _kind_ of ideas?"

Everyone in the room froze, uncertain of how to proceed. Apparently, letting Jacob know that Aro had the hots for me— _badly—_ was something that Carlisle hadn't bothered to include in his version of what had happened over the last couple of weeks.

And as his golden eyes flickered anxiously over to meet Aro's, I realized that the reason for that omission was primarily fear. Carlisle was afraid of how Jacob might react. Which, given how negatively he'd reacted to my marriage to Edward, wasn't a wholly unwarranted fear.

Seeing us all tense up, obviously aware of what was going on, but unwilling to tell, only made Jacob angrier. "What _ideas_ are you talking about?!" he demanded to know. "You can't possibly mean that they—" Jacob gestured a bit sharply between Aro and I, "—are actually…."

His acrid voice faltered and trailed off though as he clearly saw in everyone's eyes that yes—Aro and I actually were whatever he'd been meaning to say. I cringed a little as I saw Jacob's eyes widen first in wounded betrayal, then in scandalization, and finally in angry disgust.

"I should have known that promise was empty!" he growled, almost under his breath, though he clearly intended for me to hear it. "That I was never going to be enough when there's another _gorgeous_ _vampire_ on the market!" he bit out with considerable sarcasm.

My heart constricted guiltily in my chest as I realized what my wolf-shifter friend was getting at. Immediately, I sought to apologize and do my best to explain. I hadn't forgotten about our promise—I had just figured… especially in light of recent events… that it was moot.

"Jacob… I…"

But apparently he wasn't willing to hear me out. "So what?" Jacob cut in, startling me by how furious and pained he sounded at the same time. "…you promise to give me a chance, and then suddenly instead _this leech_ _I've never met before_ —" he jabbed a livid finger toward Aro, "—is next in line?"

Jacob's harsh voice almost broke at the end of his sentence. And I wanted nothing more than to suddenly blend into the wallpaper. He was right. Even if something more permanent between us was never going to work out now that I was on my way to being immortalized, I still owed him a proper explanation before I started cavorting with someone else.

All the red gone from my face, I hung my head remorsefully. And mumbled out. "I'm sorry, Jake."

Jacob's face warped with revulsion. "You think ' _sorry_ ' makes this better?!" he practically shouted.

Clearly he didn't think so.

But before he could say anymore, Rosalie snorted. "You don't want her now anyway." Rosalie wrinkled her nose in my direction and quivered a little, before twisting back to face Jacob. "Not after what she did in the forest…" Rosalie told him, the dark insinuation heavy in her voice.

Automatically, I stiffened where I stood. _So Rosalie knew about that._

I wasn't exactly surprised. With the carnage still plastered all over my face, and the scent of human blood hanging heavily around my form when Rosalie first saw me again, I couldn't imagine that it was hard to guess what had happened.

But it still hurt to know that she knew of my failings, when it had been her I'd challenged myself to prove wrong. And the steely gaze of Rosalie's judging, butterscotch eyes only made things worse.

A thick lump passed through my throat. And then the self-castigating mantra that had been madly repeating inside my head as we'd trudged back to the house from the cliffs, started playing in my head again.

 _I'm a monster. I shouldn't have survived Nessa's birth. I should be dead. And then that innocent man would still be alive. I have no right to exist as this…_ my white hands started to tremble in front of me … _murderer._

Red flashed across my vision. Followed by the face of a man confronted with death. And a bloodcurdling shriek tore through the air.

I flinched at the memory.

But like before, the rapid-fire of disturbing, high-resolution images and perfectly replicated, horrible sounds, wouldn't let up. No matter what I tried to do. Once the spiral of dark thoughts was started, it seemed, it was very hard to get them to stop.

The beige couches and figures sitting atop them quickly turned blurry as a milky film filled my eyes. Again, my irises burned at the intrusion of venom. But my sadness was too acute to banish the fluid.

While both Emmett and Carlisle shared sympathetic glances, and Aro offered a strong shoulder of support, Rosalie remained as callous as ever. And Jacob's brow simply furrowed in confusion. I guessed that he'd never seen a vampire cry before.

"What?" Jacob asked, his voice warring between accusation and concern.

In the end, accusation won out. "What did you do?" Jacob demanded. It seemed he had picked up on the important parts of our conversation. "Emmett said you were hunting…."

"I… I was," I nervously started, trying to blink the viscous buildup out of my eyes.

Jacob's eyes narrowed skeptically. "Hunting… _what_ exactly?"

I gulped.

For a few seconds I floundered around, searching for an adequate excuse. Something that would make my activities in the forest less condemnable. But the acute guilt piercing my heart prevented me from outright lying. And then suddenly, the truth all came out in a stream of word-vomit.

"I tried, I really did," I labored to assure my friend. "Carlisle and I went over the mountains to hunt some deer. And I was so ready to do it, Jacob. So ready to drink and swallow. I wanted to more than anything in the world, but then… But then there was this… this really good smell… a-and I didn't know it was a hiker, I just…" I choked. "I just went for it. And then… oh God, there was a… a _body_ …"

Aro cut me off with a hand on my shoulder. I hadn't realized until he put it there that my hands were still shaking. Their violent trembling stilled under his touch. And, for some unknowable reason, the fluid in my eyes gradually started to clear as Aro rubbed soft circles across my nervous tendons.

"So yeah, Bella's a _murderer_ now," Rosalie jabbed.

Jacob and I both blanched. He in horror. And I in shame.

Carlisle surprised us all by leaping to my defense. "Bella had… an _accident_ ," he corrected succinctly with a sad sigh. "It was not intentional," he informed Rosalie. "Please don't rub any more salt in her wounds than necessary. I am sure she regrets it as much as you."

I tried to sniffle, to show that Carlisle was right. But it didn't quite come out right. I guess I would had to mark that action down on the list of "things I can no longer do as a vampire".

Rosalie turned up her nose and glared daggers at the man tenderly stroking my shoulders. "This is all your fault," she sneered at Aro.

"No, it's mine," Carlisle stepped in to take the blame. "I should have made sure the area was clear first before I set her loose," he told everyone, running his fingers regretfully through his short, platinum locks. "Like with Jonathan, I was careless. I made a mistake."

Both Rosalie and I were horrified that Carlisle seemed to think he was guilty in this instance. We both rushed to assure him that it wasn't his fault. But again, the doctor cut us off.

"Arguing about who is at fault isn't going to do us any good," he said with a dismissive wave, before hanging his head in his hands.

My lungs seized up sympathetically as I watched Carlisle silently berate himself. Clearly, if inexplicably, he still believed all fault lied squarely with him. Even though he'd done nothing wrong.

A tense silence settled over the room as we all watched Carlisle mourn a human death that very much wasn't something he was remotely responsible for. But this silence was interrupted as Jacob realized he was missing a crucial piece of the puzzle.

Jacob looked quizzically toward the doctor. "Who's Jonathan?"

…

Emmett and Rosalie both excused themselves from the room as Carlisle rehashed the painful stories of the previous members of the Cullen clan, and what had precipitated their leave for Jacob's benefit. And while I'd been expecting a bit more resistance, Jacob listened intently through each story, only asking minimal clarifying questions. And he seemed to automatically understand the significance of these stories when the doctor was finished.

That is, that—as admirable as the Cullen way of life was—that it simply wasn't a feasible way of life for every vampire.

"So, what you're saying is, that you think you have some kind of…" Jacob fumbled around for the right word, "…special genes or whatever that make your weird hunting habits possible?" His expression was as dubious as his words.

Carlisle nodded sadly. "I wish it were not so," he expressed, looking lamentingly in my direction. "If every vampire were able to feed as I do..."

Carlisle trailed off. But the insinuation was strong enough to Jacob to pick up where the doctor left off. He nodded understandingly. "That would make everything a lot better."

Carlisle bobbed his head slowly in agreement. "Yes, much better indeed. But unfortunately that is not the case."

"So what is Bella going to do?" Jacob asked the doctor, genuine concern, rather than malice or judgement coloring his tone.

Carlisle raised his shoulders in a limp shrug. "I… I haven't the slightest idea."

Jacob swiveled on his couch to face me again. "Because James' venom got to you first, apparently you can't swallow animal blood," he elucidated, more as a reminder to himself than anyone—though it was shocking to hear someone explicitly say that out-loud. "But the treaty clearly says that hunting humans is not acceptable in this area…"

Automatically my head started nodding, having a fair idea of what Jacob was getting at. Carlisle had broached this very issue with me only a few hours before.

"And…" Jacob's gaze turned hesitant, "…well… no offense Bella, but I'm not going to break that rule just for you."

Something thick got caught in my esophagus as I considered the horrible prospect of Jacob just turning a blind-eye to me routinely slaughtering the townspeople of Forks. Even if killing people every two weeks was my new reality—and I still, perhaps vainly, clung onto the hope that it didn't have to be—the idea of Jacob just being okay with that made me feel sick inside.

"I wouldn't expect you to," I choked out.

Jacob made some kind of irritated grumbling sound underneath his breath. And then he looked back up at me, a strange mix of frustration and incredulity twisting his normally friendly features.

"I still can't believe you actually _killed_ somebody."

"It was an _accident,_ " Carlisle emphasized for probably the thirteenth time.

Jacob wheeled around to glare at the doctor. "I _know_ that. It just..." his voice wavered for a second. "It just doesn't make any sense. The Bella I knew would never…"

I cut him off. "And yet, here I did!" I exclaimed angrily—though most of that fury was self-directed. After my tirade, I stepped toward Jacob with outstretched arms. "Go ahead," I baited him. "Punish me for my crime."

Jacob immediately looked apologetic. He raised two uneasy hands, hoping to dissuade me from my suddenly suicidal bent. "Bella, I don't…"

"Do it!" I snarled, looming closer to him, trying make myself look as threatening as possible to goad him into it. "I _deserve_ to die, right?" I challenged him, venom dripping from my gritted teeth.

 _I certainly feel like I do._

Jacob leaned away from my daunting figure, obviously terrified, though also evidently pained. "Bella please…" he begged. He very much did not want to be forced to kill me in self-defense, or for any other reason.

I felt a firm, but affectionate hand on my shoulder again, which made me freeze in place. "Bella, my love," Aro pleaded in his featheriest voice. "Please do not do this."

Hearing the strain in Aro's voice automatically caused me to straighten up. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt _him,_ after all. And then, I summarily melted into his side, clutching onto his expensively tailored suit-jacket for dear life, and burying my head against his warm, still chest.

A choked, sob-like sound escaped my throat as I burrowed into the soft fabric of Aro's clothes. And I let all of my hackles drop as his arms slowly reached down to encircle me in a comforting embrace.

The truth was, when push came to shove, I didn't really _want_ to die. I just felt so horrible for what I'd done that I felt like it was the only respectable option left.

Though, the knowledge that my passing would wholly and truly devastate the beautiful man at my side, was a pretty significant deterrent.

Resolving to live with myself, even though I'd committed a horrible crime, I continued to release muffled cries of anguish into Aro's coat. And shake despondently in his protective grasp.

Jacob sighed as he observed our amorous display, and averted his gaze to stare mournfully down at the pale carpet. "I'll let it go this time," he informed us reluctantly, clearly still a little uncomfortable with the idea of so casually brushing off human death. "But if Bella is going to…" Jacob blanched and shivered, "…hunt like an ordinary vampire from now on, then she can't stay here."

He was adamant about that.

But this wasn't exactly news. "I've already told her as much, Jacob," Carlisle informed the teenager, echoing my thoughts. "She understands."

I leaned away from Aro a little bit to look Jacob directly in the eyes. Though I didn't dare let go of him. "I'm _so sorry_ Jacob."

And I really meant it. I was incredibly sorry that this was how things had turned out. If there was any way to turn back time and do it all over again… I would have retracted everything in a heartbeat.

 _Well,_ I pondered as I clutched the silken fibers of Aro's tailored jacket between my hard fingers, _perhaps not_ _ **everything**_ _._

But Jacob shocked me by shaking his head. "No," he announced staunchly. "This is what you always wanted, isn't it? To be a vampire?" he said, his words sharp with accusation. Though, he didn't wait for my reply. "Well, looks like you got your wish," he mumbled darkly. "And Rosalie's right." He flicked a disparaging glance in the direction she and Emmett had gone. "I'm no longer interested. You've made your choice."

My heart got caught in my throat. _No, Jacob… please…_ I thought before I decided there was no point in trying to plead with him to reconsider. Ultimately, he was right. It was better if we didn't try anything romantic ever again. We were too different now—werewolf and vampire. Mortal enemies.

Though, that didn't change the fact that his rejection still hurt.

"I never wanted it to end this way…"

"Well, it did," Jacob snapped, rising suddenly from the couch. He stormed over to the entryway door. "So, if you would all excuse me for a moment," he said with mock-politeness. "…I need to go outside, turn back into a _stinky dog_ , and 'claim my birthright' so Sam doesn't _kill_ all of you."

Rosalie sat back a bit on the pale cushions, clearly startled by Jacob's words. " _All_ of us?" she asked in a challenging tone. "But…" her butterscotch eyes flickered between herself, her husband, and Carlisle. "… _we've_ done nothing wrong."

Jacob paused in his stomping somewhere a few feet away from the couches. He scoffed at the blonde's remarks like they were particularly daft. "Sam's not going to see it that way," he told us sharply. "Between harboring fugitives—" Jacob jabbed a forceful finger in the direction of Aro and I, "—and threatening the lives of everyone in the area by creating and protecting a vampire-human-hybrid baby, _all_ of you are going to appear guilty to him."

My stomach clenched as I realized that Jacob was right.

But Rosalie had an entirely different reaction. She rose from her seat immediately and snarled at me. "Well, if I am going to be _punished_ for supporting your pregnancy, I should at least get to hold the baby!"

Aro and I both immediately stiffened and denials were already forming on our lips. Rosalie had no right to be near my baby.

But before we could get a single word out, Carlisle leveled a disapproving glance at his daughter. "Rosalie, now is not the time…"

The blonde harrumphed, flopped back down onto the couch, and crossed her arms petulantly. But thankfully didn't say another word.

Aro immediately relaxed when he saw that the blonde wasn't going to be difficult, but I was still tense. My eyes swam with venom again as I watched Jacob march away from us. And I struggled to keep down a sob as his entire, six-foot-something body of muscle radiating nothing but pure hurt and rage.

Carlisle nodded once in Jacob's direction, and gestured cordially toward the door. "If anything goes wrong, let us know as soon as you can."

"Will do, Doc." Jacob gave Carlisle a mock-salute before slipped out of the door, and out of sight into the bright summer light.


End file.
